Equality
by Taranis Theia
Summary: Harry discovers he is a vampire, struggles to find the power Voldemort doesn't know, fulfill the prophecy and find his mate. But what if his mate is someone who he has to kill? What if his mate is none other than the Dark Lord himself? PostOotP
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to JKR.

**Prologue**

His sixteenth birthday. Sixteen years before, he had been born. Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived.

The sunlight was streaming through his bedroom window and illuminated his rather small room. Normally, people liked the way the sun seeped into the room and Harry wasn't an exception, but today, it didn't lighten his mood at all, somehow it worsened it. His sixteenth birthday. He would have congratulated himself normally, but he just didn't feel like it. He just wished Sirius was there. He wasn't, and this year he wasn't even going to get any letters from his godfather. This was because said man was dead. Fallen through the veil at the Department of Mysteries. Because of him...

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to fall into a depression... again. He had been depressed all summer but had vowed he would stop when he turned sixteen as he now needed to think about a way to defeat Voldemort. At the age of sixteen wizards got their inheritance. Not only their financial, but also their magical. Now, Harry had to find the power Voldemort didn't know and defeat that bastard.

He got up and went into the bathroom to shower. Afterwards he threw on some clothes that once belonged to Dudley and were quite a few sizes too big and raced down the stairs for breakfast. He had to be quick. If he wasn't, he wouldn't get anything to eat as punishment for being late.

Arriving in the kitchen and casting a quick glance at the clock that hung on the opposite wall, he found he was two minutes late. Shit. Probably... probably he could ask for some food in exchange for doing additional chores... Advancing to the table around which the Dursleys sat without even acknowledging him, he spoke up.

„Uncle Vernon, if I do some additional chores today, could I get some breakfast?"

Even before he had finished the sentence, he knew that he wouldn't be getting anything. Probably more chores, but most certainly not breakfast. His uncle glared at him for interrupting their breakfast and asking such a thing.

„Who do you think you are, asking for food? You don't deserve it! You and your kind deserve nothing but death! You taint this house with your abnormality and should be very thankful we took you in, feed and clothe you!" Vernon was outraged.

Harry was furious. He hated being called a freak or abnormal, because, in some way, he was. Not even in the wizarding world did he fit in. He endured this bashing and bullying without showing that it really hurt him to be called like that. He would never show his uncle of course. It was a weakness he wouldn't do any good revealing. He was fuming inwardly and looked as if it didn't affect him at all on the outside.

That's what he thought.

But it somehow showed, because Vernon's eyes widened in fear and he retreated a few steps his eyes locked on Harry's face. Dudley too was looking fearful and Petunia screamed.

Confused, Harry looked around to see the source of their fear, but saw nothing. They eyes were on him and Petunia now trembled. A drop of sweat made its way down Vernon's face and left behind a wet, glistering trail. Harry could see all the lines on Petunia's face, were they because of age or because of the contortion of her face. And Dudley's fearful controlled breathing seemed to be unnaturally loud to Harry. He frowned. They were probably fearing he would tell the order of their negation to give him something to eat. He wouldn't tell the order. He didn't want people around him now. He wasn't in a mood to deal with them.

He calmed down a bit and wondering once again why the Dursleys had looked so shocked, he climbed up the stairs. „You... you freak! You monster! Get out of my house!" Vernon shouted behind Harry but didn't shout anything else, so Harry assumed he had been silenced by Petunia. After all, the neighbours were quite nosy.

„I'm no freak, I'm not abnormal, nor a monster..." he muttered to himself, still slightly enraged.

He stalked into his room and sat down on the floor opposite the mirror. He wasn't a monster, he was just a boy, a boy who happened to have the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

They always treated him like something that didn't deserve to live, like a bug. He had feelings too, didn't they know that?

Looking into the mirror, he saw a flash of something. Something was wrong with his face. He scrambled over to the mirror but still couldn't discern what it was. Discarding it as nothing, he smiled a reassuring smile at himself, to feel more comfortable. That's when he saw what looked so wrong on his features. His teeth. His canines were elongated and looked really sharp and his normally emerald-green eyes were partially silver. He didn't look like he was smiling reassuringly. He gaped.

Harry let himself fall on his bed and proceeded to stare at the ceiling as if there was something interesting up there. He was a vampire. That was for sure. They had learnt enough about them in Defense against the Dark Arts for Harry to be able to identify one if he saw one.

But... how? How could he, the ultimate fighter for the light, be a dark creature? Would he tell anyone? How would he survive? He needed blood - and the daylight... wait. No.

Vampires weren't really harmed by the sunlight. Their skin tolerated the light, but only for a certain measure.

In DADA they had learnt the reason why vampires dressed in black. The colour absorbed the sunlight quite well and therefore shielded them of the sunlight. The clothes too had to absorb some moonlight at a full moon to work properly. Harry didn't exactly know what happened if a vampire went outside without the black clothes on, but he too wasn't keen to find out. Still in this slightly dazed state, he went to get all of his black clothes. A glance onto his astronomy-calendar which showed that a full moon would be up in a week's time.

How was he supposed to do his chores when he wasn't able to go outside? Probably he could ask the Dursleys if he could do the chores whiches had to be done outside, at night.

And on the full moon he would prepare his black clothes. Unfortunately, he didn't own many black clothes. Only one pair of black trousers and two shirts. He made a mental note to buy some more when he went to Diagon alley.

His fangs could shorten if he willed them to and lengthen, when he needed them. He did so a few times in front of the mirror. He thought it looked quite scary.

Suddenly, he knew why the Dursleys had looked so horrified. They must have seen his fangs...

Now, the only question remaining was: how was he supposed to get blood? The thought of biting into someone's neck was disgusting, but it was only half as disgusting as thinking about actually drinking blood.

If he told Dumbledore, he would be sent blood and could ask questions, but why bother to ask Dumbledore about something? He would only tell half-truths and keep things to himself. That's what he had done with the prophecy. He hadn't told him till the end of last year.

Thinking about it; could his inheritance as a vampire possibly be the_ power he doesn't know_? No, he decided. Voldemort knew about vampires. It had to be something else. Dumbledore had once hinted it had something to do with love. That, however, couldn't be it. It was too far-fetched.

Little did Harry know, how wrong he was with that assumption.

Do you like it? Then, review. Don't you like it? Then, review and tell me how I can do better. Do you hate it? Then, review and tell me. Have you got any suggestions as for pairings or any questions? Then: review.

Canary Cream for everyone,

Taranis


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to JKR.

A/N: I got reviews and I'm so happy about them... I hate checking my emails (I do it once a month), that's why I never realized I GOT reviews... So I thought, hey, why not make your readers happy and post chapter 1? I've got it written until chapter 4. Unfortunately, I wrote it half a year ago and my English wasn't as good, then. I apologize for any mistakes in spelling or grammar. My style of writing has changed as well, you might notice a chnage in chapter 5. We'll see.

Now, read on and enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

Harry spent the remaining hours of the day sitting in the corner of his room, watching out for the sun rays. He decided he would have to ask the Dursleys to put curtains in front of his window. After all, he couldn't sit in the darkest corner of his room all day, could he? He had been sitting all day on the floor pondering about his change. He had inherited it. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him his parents had been vampires? Or Remus? Why didn't anyone warn him? He sighed. They always had kept things from him. But this time... he couldn't imagine Dumbledore not telling him something of this magnitude. Probably he didn't know? If he didn't, Harry wouldn't tell him. He was tired of lectures and long talks. He just wanted to be like everyone else. If he didn't tell anyone, probably no one would ever find out that he, the Boy-Who-Lived was a vampire.

He watched as the last sunlight faded away and a few minutes later his room was much darker. Now, it seemed safe to move.

He took the blanket that lay on his bed and blocked the window with it. Harry's aunt or uncle couldn't have seen anything had they been in his room at this moment, but Harry, being a vampire could see everything clearly. Actually, he could see better if he didn't use his glasses. He put them in the drawer and wondered what exactly he would do now that he could see so well at night. Vampires, he had learned, slept when normal people were awake. At daytime.

Thinking about it, he didn't feel tired at all. He could use the night to review the stuff they had learned in their 5th year. He couldn't remember anything of it. He had been quite busy in fifth year, having Umbridge terrorizing the school and other problems to deal with than schoolwork. If he wanted to keep up with the others in the new school year, he would have to be doing real hard work this summer.

Sitting down at the small, tattered table that had once belonged to Dudley, Harry took out his DADA-book from last year and began his review, although he noticed after some time that it reminded him of Umbridge's lessons.

He also practiced some wand movements and muttered some spells without having the wand in his hand to not get arrested because of underage use of magic.

Hours passed and Harry tentatively lifted the blanket from where it was blocking the window and saw it was dawn. He quickly replaced the blanket and suddenly felt very tired. He dropped down on his bed and curled up, not even bothering to undress. A moment later, he was sound asleep.

Harry awoke suddenly. He wasn't sure of what had disturbed his sleep, but there was something wrong. The darkness in his room was absolute and a quick glance at the alarm clock showed it was afternoon. Somehow, that seemed anormal to Harry, but he couldn't quite place why.

A moment later, it became clear. It wasn't supposed to be that dark in the afternoon! And he wasn't supposed to see everything clearly either. But he did.

A conversation could be heard and Harry was sure it was some one at the front door. How utterly strange. He wasn't supposed to hear a conversation being held at the door from all the way up in his room. And he even could discern which voice belonged to whom. There was an angered and slightly frightened voice and a calm, steady one. The first belonged to his uncle and the second... that was Dumbledore.

Why would Dumbledore himself come to his house? Why couldn't order members take him to Grimmauld place? Why didn't anyone tell him they were going to get him? He could have packed his things...

And how would he explain to Dumbledore that he wouldn't go outside? He was a vampire after all.

Ah... that was why his window was blocked... he hadn't remembered this little fact while in his slightly dazed and sleepy state.

He quickly got up from his bed and put on some clothes. He really wanted to wear black, another thing he blamed on his vampire-inheritance. But he told himself he could only start to wear black when he had put the clothes under the full moon.

A few minutes later, a fully-dressed Harry sat on his chair and waited patiently for the headmaster to come up the stairs and enter his room. He wouldn't go down to meet him. It was much too dangerous. What if he got hit by a sun ray? No, he would wait and tell Dumbledore he had a slight headache because of which he didn't want the light streaming into his room making it worse. That seemed to be as good an excuse as anything.

Earlier he had decided he wouldn't tell Professor Dumbledore about his change and he was still determined not to. He didn't have a right to know it. He already had destroyed his life to such an extent that he didn't deserve to know everything about Harry. A year ago, he would have owled Dumbledore as soon as he learned he was a vampire, but now... he didn't feel as if he could trust his headmaster enough to tell him. Harry knew that the headmaster would eventually find out, but he would keep it a secret until then.

A knock at his door roused him from his musings. He looked up and decided it was much too dark in his room and that it would raise suspicions if there wasn't any light. He quickly turned on the light and called for the person to enter. As expected, it was Dumbledore.

He forced a smile onto his face and greeted the headmaster.

„Harry, my boy, you don't look too good. What happened? Aren't you eating enough? Did something happen at your birthday?" The Hogwarts headmaster seemed genuinely concerned.

Did he really look that bad? Allright, he hadn't eaten since yesterday evening, but he was sure he didn't look malnourished. And where did this sudden concern come from? The headmaster hadn't cared about what Umbridge did to Harry the year before either.

Dumbledore's last question, however, shocked Harry slightly. Did he know? Why would he think something went wrong on my birthday?

Harry tried to look innocent. „No, nothing happened. I've only got a headache and that's why I blocked the window."

Albus Dumbledore sighed and something akin to relief washed over his face. „So, nothing – special happened at your birthday?"

Harry tried to think something up, but found he couldn't while under the watchful gaze of his headmaster.

„I, um, I got a headache, but nothing anormal happened. I grew a bit, though." Harry was quite proud of the last part of his answer. To prove his point, Harry stood and showed off his newly won height.

Again, Dumbledore showed relief and told him he had just wanted to check on him. Harry felt a twinge in his chest when he remembered the time when he had still trusted and loved the headmaster like a grandfather. But sadly, this time was over. Maybe, maybe some day he would be able to forgive him and love him again.

„I also brought you your presents, as owls can't pass through the wards."

„Ah, I already wondered why there weren't any owls tapping on my window at midnight..." Harry said half-jokingly.

„Well, now, my boy, you've got them and I have to return to Hogwarts, I have a lot of things to do at the moment."

Harry was relieved the headmaster would be leaving, for he didn't feel at all comfortable when lying in his presence. He somehow felt as if Professor Dumbledore could look right into his soul and mind. He shivered slightly.

„Yes, thank you. I'll tell you when something happens!"

Dumbledore nodded and exited the room thinking he had missed something in their conversation. There was something Harry wasn't telling him... Well, he had expected Harry to be a bit more distant to him after the fifth year and after him telling the boy the prophecy... He really hoped Harry would trust him again one day...

Harry exhaled and let himself fall back into his chair. Talking to Professor Dumbledore had been much more difficult than expected. And he knew that Dumbledore suspected there was something he wasn't told.

When he had heard the closing of the front door, Harry carefully made his way down the stairs into the kitchen to get something to eat. After the headmaster had told him he looked bad, he had gotten quite hungry.

His aunt Petunia was sitting at the table in the kitchen reading one of her magazines for women over 40 years. She lifted her gaze and when her eyes fell on Harry, a distinct look of fear came onto her face. Harry smiled at her, not wanting to frighten her and somehow she calmed down and proceeded to read her magazine. Harry ate some toast and sat at the table. He decided he would talk to his aunt about his vampiric problem and why he wouldn't be able to do outside-chores for a few days.

„Um, Aunt Petunia?"

„What? Don't you see I'm reading?"

„I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to tell you I won't be able to do any chores for the next few days, because of the sun." Harry watched her carefully when he said this.

„I won't do the chores for you, so you_ will _do them." She said this with an air of finality.

„I can't. I'm a vampire and sensitive to sunlight." Harry decided that he could tell her he was one. Whom would she tell? She didn't even want the word 'magic' being spoken in her presence. He wanted to scare her as well. The Dursleys should respect him.

The reaction was immediate. Petunia scrambled away from him and screeched something about 'freaks and monsters'. Harry waited annoyed, for her to calm down, which she did rather quickly, seeing he wouldn't start drinking her blood.

„So, is that allright with you?"

Petunia, in her still frightened state agreed immediatly. Harry turned away and went up to his room to review some more. After all, _his _day had just begun...

Harry was soon getting tired of the constant reviewing and learning. He just wasn't a person who could learn all the time without getting bored. After all, he wasn't Hermione.

He had re-read all of his fifth year books except for the potion ones. He just couldn't bring himself to read them. One night, he had actually tried to, but after a quarter of a page, he had dozed off and decided it'd

be wiser to read something else.

Harry had still one night to go until it was the full moon and he felt restless. He wasn't used to being trapped inside this house for so many days in row. Had he been younger, this would have never bothered him, because the Dursleys locked him in the dark cupboard for weeks sometimes. But now... he wasn't used to sitting around. He needed to move. He wanted to fly on his firebolt. He just needed to get out.

Vampires could transform into bats or other winged beasts (this depended on power) when they needed to, but in the DADA lessons they never spoke about _how_ they did it. Harry sighed in desperation. He felt trapped. He felt hungry and weak. The hunger was something he didn't understand. He was eating normal meals. He ate breakfast in the evenings, lunch at three in the morning and dinner at dawn. That was his day. He knew he ate enough. Why in hell did he feel such hunger, though? It felt as though he hadn't eaten for days and the meals he ate weren't helping a bit. Even after eating, he felt hunger. He couldn't place it. Why? What did he need?

Pulling out his DADA-book he leafed through the book until he had the chapter on vampires in front of him.

_Vampires are one of the most dangerous dark creatures, mostly because they look so human. They can approach their prey without the victim noticing. Upon having their prey, they bite into its neck and drink their blood. Once a person is in a vampire's clutches, that person is doomed. The speed and strength of a vampire are its most dangerous..._

Harry didn't have to read any further to know what it was he needed. Blood. The thought of drinking blood wasn't nearly as disgusting as the first time he had thought about it. The idea seemed quite intriguing. He would stop to have this feeling of emptiness and hunger. He would feel whole once more.

Would the person from whom he would drink feel pain? Would the person remember what had happened?

Who would he bite? Would that person be turned into a vampire?

Probably he could ask Dumbledore for some blood. Or he could cut himself and drink some of his own? That seemed to be a good idea. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

Harry went to his trunk and unwrapped the wrapping around Sirius' knife. It had been partially molten, but the blade was still sharp at some parts. He slowly lowered the knife to his wrist and did a shallow but painful cut. He watched fascinated as the blood oozed out with crimson drops. They were nearly glowing in the darkness and he could actually see the life that still resided in the blood. Without even noticing, he lowered his head and placed his lips around the cut and started to suck a bit. The metallic, slightly sweet taste of blood filled his mouth and he thought it tasted delightful. But his hunger didn't cease. Harry blamed it on the fact that it was his own blood he was drinking. He was losing blood in the same rate he was drinking it. A never-ending circle. It tasted good, but it didn't help him. Instinctively, he licked the wound and watched in amazement, when it closed, not showing any kind of scar or bruise.

After this first taste of blood, his feeling of hunger doubled and now that he knew what he needed he had a hard time suppressing his blood-lust. He wanted to drink blood so badly... He needed to feel this sweet, warm life essence on his tongue and running down his throat.

Making a quick decision, Harry went down the stairs on tip-toe and opened the front door. It was the middle of the night, so he wasn't in danger.

The only thing Harry had to worry about at this point, was how to sneak away from the order members, that were guarding this house, unnoticed.

But Harry had underestimated his vampire self. He instinctively melted with the shadows and avoided the moonlight. He found it unbelievable easy to walk silently. He would have felt like the king of the night, hadn't he been lacking the grace and superiority that other vampires possessed.

Melting from one shadow to the next, passing the park and some houses, Harry stopped suddenly when he heard laughing and talking. They were quite loud, that was why he thought them to be near him. He walked in direction of the voices and found them eventually after five minutes of following the sound. They hadn't been as near as he had thought after all. Well, it were probably his vampire instincts that let him hear so well.

When he saw the the three figures he now considered as 'prey', he realized one of them being rather familiar. Dudley.

What the hell was Dudley doing in the middle of the night walking through Little Whinging with his peers?

Harry didn't have to think about it more thoroughly. He didn't want to drink Dudley's blood. That would be disgusting.

Dudley's friends though... They seemed to be quite suitable prey.

Harry followed them, walking silently. He still wondered why he was able to be so soundless and concentrated. He wasn't clumsy normally, but most certainly not this silent and graceful.

Luckily, Dudley and his two peers said goodbye and they each walked into another direction. Harry decided to follow Piers, who he hated most of Dudley's gang. Piers had always humilated and bullied him along with Dudley when Harry had still been on the same school as them.

Piers was now walking down a silent, empty street, in his confidence not looking around. Big mistake. Harry thought.

He closed the distance between himself and the bigger boy in a second due to his vampire skills and found himself blocking the way of the boy. Piers looked startled to see Harry standing there and was about to say something, when finally Harry's instincts kicked in and he found himself baring his long canines and biting into the larger boy's neck. His victim seemed frozen, a thing which suited him well. He felt the first drops of the addicting life essence running into his mouth and down his throat. His eyes glazed over and his self-restraint faded away. Before he actually knew what exactly he was doing, he found himself swallowing large amounts of blood, completely overwhelmed by the taste and by the life that coursed through his veins.

Harry's own consciousness fought against the vampiric needs and won eventually. He gasped and withdrew from the now unconscious boy. Had he kept on drinking any longer, Piers would have died of bloodloss.

Suddenly, the magnitude of what he had just done, came to Harry's mind and he felt immensely guilty. He could have killed the boy. He had drunken blood. BLOOD! Just how disgusting was that? He didn't deserve to be called a human being. He was a monster, a freak. His aunt and uncle were right.

He turned away from Piers and made his way back to the house he lived in. He felt dazed. No feeling reached him and everything seemed to be clouded in a white fog. He felt numb and full of life at the same time. It was a distinct feeling.

He reached #4, Privet Drive at dawn and quickly slipped into the house. He tip-toed back to his room and

seeing his bed, felt tired.

But suddenly, it hit him what he had done. He had bitten someone and than he had left that person lying in the middle of the street, unconscious. He felt as though the vampire instincts that had fogged his mind

since the realization he needed blood, faded away and his mind began to get clearer.

What had he done? Aunt Petunia was right. He was a monster. An animalistic half-breed. A vampire.

Everyone would turn their backs on him, no one would stand by his side. He would be alone. Not even Sirius would be able to help him now. Sirius was dead, but Harry was sure Sirius would have tolerated him. After all Sirius' best friend had been a werewolf.

Thinking about it, Remus might tolerate him, too. He had to understand how it felt like to be a magical being. And one that people feared and despised.

He wasn't aware of his dropping eyelids and his slowing breath. He fell asleep with the comforting thought of Remus. The werewolf would understand him.

The next time Harry awakened, it was early in the night. Harry couldn't believe he had nearly slept twelve hours.

He got up and wanted to sit down and study, when he remembered which night it was. The full moon. Poor Remus. He must have started his change by now... he felt so sorry for his father's friend and heaved a sad sigh.

And it wasn't just the night of Remus' transformation, it was the night he needed to let his clothes absorb the moonlight.

Excited, he gathered his black clothes and dashed down the stairs not bothering to be silent. The Dursleys wouldn't wake up at such an hour.

He carefully stepped out the back door, hoping that the order member on duty wouldn't notice him. A moment later, he heard the rather loud voice of Mundungus Fletcher. Apparently he was talking to someone about stolen cauldrons and rare potions ingredients.

How utterly useful to have such an unuseful order member on duty this particular night...

Harry walked past the point he knew Mundungus was hidden and looked for a spot of grass where he could put his clothes to absorb the moonlight. Soon, he had found the spot and, not exactly knowing what to do, spread out the clothes on the floor and letting the pale, yet intense moonlight fall onto them.

He sat down next to the clothes and watched them. He really hoped they would actually absorb the light. If they didn't...

Harry lay on his back and watched the stars and the moon. He never knew the moon was so beautiful. The milky white surface had slightly darker craters on it and it glowed in an ethereal light. He had difficulties to look away, because his gaze was glued to the perfectly round, gleaming form of the moon.

He was fascinated by it. At a rather lucid moment, he scolded himself for being so fascinated. After all, he thought, I'm not a werewolf, am I?

The moon's glow faded slightly, when dawn approached and Harry was suddenly aware that he had been watching the moon the whole night. He turned to his clothes and started to watch them intently. Could he put them on already? He felt rather scared outside at dawn. The sun could be rising any moment and he wasn't protected.

Suddenly, a glow, not unlike the moon's surrounded the clothes and faded away as quickly as it had come.

Harry ran over and put them on. The black textile felt slightly cool on his skin and he liked the feel of it.

Harry was anxious to find out if the procedure had worked. So he decided to stay outside and test the clothes.

Harry stood, facing the slowly rising sun and watched, when the first rays of light spread over the roofs of the houses of Little Whinging. He was very nervous. What if it didn't work? Would the sunlight hurt him?

Harry needn't have worried, because when the sunlight washed him, he didn't feel at all bothered.

He didn't enjoy the sunlight, but it didn't hurt him. That was good.

He jumped into the air (which was quite a bit, he was a vampire after all) and punched his fist into the air. He had done it. Now, the only thing that was left for him to do was to get more black clothes and drink some blood from time to time. After his experience with Piers, he didn't feel disgusted by that thought anymore.

He needed to know how often a vampire had to drink blood too.

And even more important: how was he supposed to find a person to take blood from at Hogwarts? Sure there had to be some wards to keep the students save of such attacks...

Well, he could think about this when he returned to Hogwarts. Now, he would enjoy the holidays.

The early sunlight illuminated the ground he was standing on and warmed him slightly. With a dazed expression on his face, watching his beautiful surroundings, Harry walked back to the house. The grass was glittering, his bare feet were brushing the grass and the cool dew fell onto his skin. He felt so peaceful and relaxed...

And so tired.

Once back in his bed, he reminded himself that he had to get used to being awake at day and sleeping at night once more. He sighed and closed his eyes. But not today.

Have you got any suggestions as for pairings or any questions? Then: review. Of course, you're allowed to review without reason, too!! Oh, and don't forget: no pairings you suggest should contain Harry. He is Voldemort's! (cackles maniacally) )

Canary Cream for everyone,

Taranis Theia


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to JKR.

A/N: Ookay. Here we go. Another chapter, wooooot!! Thanks a lot for the reviews! Someone said they don't like slash. Well, this will be slash. Most likely. If no one convinces me to do otherwise.

And Mimaindi asked if Harry would talk to Remus. What do you think? I'd rather not tell, but be sure that Remus will play a role in future chapters. When? Just read.

I got some comments about the fact that Harry's head is immune to sunlight. I fully agree with all of you. It's absolutely implausible. Let's pretend it never happened. I changed it in the first two chapters. Now, his whole body is quite immune (cause that was only ever a mythos that vampires fear the sun), Harry only needs his clothes for extra protection. Small portions exposed to the sun don't matter. Phew. I'm so glad that's out of the way.

Anyway, I got another chapter for you!! Thanks for all the reviews, the encouraging ones and the critizising ones!! You're great.

Enjoy.

Chapter 2

He jerked awake when he felt something unusual. In his still sleepy state he couldn't quite understand what exactly had woken him. He blinked several times to clear his vision. The fact that he didn't need his glasses confirmed it was deep in the night. He wondered why he had awoken.

Why was he sleeping at night anyway? He was supposed to be awake at this time...

Suddenly he remembered his last thought before he had slept. He had to get used to sleeping at night. So, this was what he was doing. Well, then, why not try to sleep some more?

He was about to lay down and resume his much-needed sleep, when he felt it again. This slight pressure on his mind. It was subtle and it reminded him of the way he felt whenever he looked into Professor Dumbledore's eyes. It felt like this whenever someone tried to probe his mind. Not the unsubtle and brutal way Snape forced his mental barriers to open, this felt like a summerbreeze that touched him. Subtle and soothing.

Harry sighed. He rather enjoyed this. Wasn't it for his constant fear Voldemort would break into his mind, he would have relaxed. But this couldn't possibly be Voldemort, the Dark Lord was much stronger than this. Harry would feel pain whenever Voldemort entered his mind, but now...

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a flash of light. When Harry opened his eyes, he knew what he was seeing wasn't real. This was a vision. Harry immediately realized it was a real one because he was looking through Voldemort's eyes. Whenever Harry got a fake-vision, he would be standing by Voldemort's side or in front if him, he wouldn't be Voldemort himself.

Interestingly, Harry's scar didn't hurt at all and he'd feel at ease weren't it for the presence of the Dark Lord and Peter Pettigrew.

Harry felt hatred well up in his mind but quickly tried to clear his mind. He didn't want Voldemort to find out about him being there.

When his mind was cleared, he began to feel foreign emotions and feelings all around himself. This were Voldemort's emotions, Harry realized. He felt anger, hatred and annoyance. The amount of hatred was overwhelming and Harry struggled to seperate Voldemort's emotions from his own.

"Wormtail! Come over here! I will summon Snape. I can't get into Harry Potter's head anymore. He must have taught the boy Occlumency."

Harry watched when Wormtail hurried to his master's side.

"My lord..." Wormtail extended his arm and Voldemort pressed his finger onto the Dark Mark that was burned into his servant's skin. Wormtail grimaced, obviously in pain.

"Snape." Voldemort pressed his finger even more tightly onto the mark. Wormtail's face contorted in agony and finally, Voldemort lifted his hand. He made a motion with his hand and Wormtail scurried away into a dark corner of the room after bowing once again.

Moments later, Snape appeared in the doorway, fully clad in his Death Eater-robes. He bowed low and whispered. "My lord..."

Another wave of hatred laced with suspicion washed over Harry. Did Voldemort suspect Snape of being a spy? If so, he had to tell Dumbledore.

His thoughts were interrupted by Voldemort's voice.

"Snape, my faithful follower. Have you any idea why I summoned you?" Voldemort's voice had a dangerous edge to it.

Harry admired how well the Potions Master could hide his emotions. He was still kneeling in front of his master and had his head down.

"No, my lord."

"Potter's mind is unaccessible. Didn't I tell you to NOT teach him Occlumency?" Voldemort's voice was slightly raised, an indication of his anger.

Snape knew that to talk back to the Dark Lord wasn't an intelligent thing to do, so he kept his head down.

"Answer!"

"Yes, my lord."

"You didn't teach the boy Occlumency? Then, why, pray tell, has Potter got an occluded mind?" Voldemort looked predatory.

"I don't know, my lord. Probably the old coot has taught the boy himself?"

Voldemort looked pensieve. "Yes. Probably. And you aren't aware of any changes Potter went through on his birthday?"

"No, my lord."

"Your lack of useful information is highly disappointing, Snape. I expect better from a member of my inner circle. Crucio!"

Snape writhed on the floor but didn't scream. Voldemort lifted the curse and dismissed him.

Harry felt nauseous after seeing his Potions Professor being tortured. He hated Snape, but his hate for the Dark Arts was stronger.

Slowly, he began to feel better and he began to wonder why his scar didn't hurt. After all, he was inside his worst enemy's head. He dismissed this thought, when a much more important one came to his mind. How was he going to get back to his body? Normally, he would get back to his body when the vision ended, but he was still there.

The lack of pain was slightly disturbing but he preferred it this way. He felt good and – a need to stay here?! Why the hell didn't he want to leave? Was this yet another trick of Voldemort's? He had this thought, this feeling that he was safe here. How ironic, Harry thought. It isn't safe at all here.

This really started to get creepy. He tried to clear his mind of all emotion and concentrated on getting out of there. In a rush, he was back in his body, panting.

He took a deep breath and tried to understand exactly what he had just witnessed.

Obviously, Voldemort was unable to enter his mind and had summoned Snape to gain information about him. But why didn't Voldemort succeed? He did normally, didn't he?

Voldemort had mentioned much stronger occlumency. Had he gotten any better? But how could he have? He hadn't tried to clear his mind before sleeping, for weeks.

Probably it had something to do with his inheritance. Probably vampires were much more skilled in occlumency? He would have to read up everything on vampires when he returned to Hogwarts.

And what about this strange feeling of safety? Had Voldemort known Harry had been there and send some emotions through their link to keep Harry there? Had he tried to seperate Harry's body from his mind? What if he hadn't been able to return? He shuddered at that thought and promised himself he would return to his own body immediately was he to be inside Voldemort's head once again.

Looking out of the window, Harry saw that the sun was rising already and he quickly grabbed his black clothes and went to the bathroom to take a shower before starting his day.

Once out of the shower, he felt energized and free. He liked feeling this way. The vision was quickly fading into the background of his mind and he just enjoyed the day.

Back in his room, he bounced up and down, just because it was fun and tried to touch the ceiling with his fingertips, he was a vampire after all. This earned him some looks from Hedwig, but Harry didn't mind. He let her out of her cage and opened the window for her to exit.

Still happy, Harry bounced down the stairs and prepared breakfast for himself and the Dursleys.

After breakfast he bounded up the stairs in a good mood, whistling some song from the 'Weird sisters', he had heard Tonks sing once.

He took his DADA-book down the stairs into the garden and lay sprawled on the grass.

The sun didn't bother him and he proceeded to read the passage about vampires again.

Five minutes later, Harry lay on his back, enjoying the warmth. He felt splendid. Being a vampire wasn't that bad after all.

Sometime around one in the afternoon, he got bored and resumed to ponder on what kind of bird he would be should he transform. He would really like to try, but didn't do it because he knew he was being watched and that it was probably considered magic. He didn't want to be expulsed from Hogwarts because of this.

Snape would be a bat, he thought laughing. Hermione? An owl. Himself? No idea. What would he be? An eagle? A falcon? He really didn't know. He would try when he returned to Hogwarts. He was now really looking forward to being back there. Well, he always was.

"DAAAAD! There are two freaks at the door!"

Harry was interrupted in his musings and was on his feet instantly. Were these ‚freaks' Death Eaters? No. Death Eaters wouldn't knock.

He went to the backdoor and heard the voice of Dumbledore as soon as he entered. Why did this man always come to visit?

Harry sighed and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Snape's voice.

"Where is he?"

Harry wasn't at all inclined to meet that person now, but went to the hall anyway.

Dumbledore and Snape both whirled around when he entered the hall and cleared his throat.

"Harry, there you are, my dear boy! Where were you?"

Harry was slightly annoyed but didn't show it.

"I was outside enjoying the sun. Why?" Ha! They would never suspect him of being a vampire if he told them he had been outside ´enjoying the sun.

"Harry, Severus here," he gestured to Snape who was scowling at Harry, "was summoned to Voldemort this night. Voldemort told him he couldn't enter your mind. He said your occlumency had been much better than ever. Do you know anything about this? Have you been practicing?"

Harry's thoughts were reeling. What would he tell them?

"I- I practiced. Right, I practiced."

Snape didn't look convinced.

"You're nearly as bad in lying as in potions and that is quite bad." Snape sneered.

"Now, now, Severus. He wouldn't be lying about something that important." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was working overdrive.

"Harry, I brought Professor Snape with me so he can determine if you really got better, what I don't doubt." He smiled at Harry cheerfully.

Harry smiled back warily. He didn't want Snape rummaging through his thoughts and memories. What if he found out about his inheritance?

"Good. Why don't we go up to your room, Harry?" Harry nodded and led them up the stairs.

In his room, Harry got ready for the attack on his mind that would be coming in a few moments. He concentrated on clearing his mind and tried to banish all of his current thoughts. Then, he looked into the eyes of his potions professor.

"Legilimens!" Snape's voice seemed to be far away and Harry's eyes were completely focused on Snape's obsidian eyes. Harry felt empty. An emptiness that was mirrored in Snape's eyes.

Harry's own eyes felt like bottomless abysses. And he knew Snape was currently falling. He knew Snape wouldn't be able to get out. He would keep on falling as long as Harry didn't stop him.

Severus Snape was smirking to himself when he pointed his wand at Potter, a boy he loathed, and uttered the legilimens-spell. He would show Dumbledore that Potter was a liar.

He focused on Potter's eyes. He thought they looked like molten emeralds. Lily's eyes. He shuddered and felt the spell kicking in.

But instead of being assaulted by the mass of Potter's usual thoughts, he felt his mind falling. He frowned inwardly. How could his mind be falling? And where was his mind anyway? He realized he was falling into the depths of Potter's eyes. They seemed to be bottomless abysses and he was currently falling. He couldn't tear his eyes away and he couldn't gather the information how to end the spell.

Everything was fading fast. He fell.

Albus stood in Harry's room and watched Severus rise his wand and uttering the spell. He was really interested in Harry's reaction. Would he be able to throw Severus out?

After five minutes of neither of them emerging from their trance-like state, he began to get apprehensive. Were they fighting over control? If so, Harry was very strong. Severus was a good Legelimens.

He watched their faces more intently, but they both looked relaxed. Now, he was concerned. Well, probably, they would snap out of it soon. He leaned back and waited.

And waited.

After half-an-hour, Albus had enough. This wasn't normal. He should have seperated them much earlier. Harry must be really tired.

He put his hand above Harry's eyes and broke eye-contact. This should have awakened them, but only Harry stirred and blinked his eyes several times before focussing on the scene in front of him.

Severus stayed the way he had been. He stared into space with his eyes wide open and empty. Dumbledore shuddered inwardly. He looked exactly like one of the victims of the Dementor's kiss. Soulless. Empty.

He shook the man, but got no reaction. He turned to Harry for an explanation, but Harry looked quite strange too. He looked as if he was waging an inner war. Getting slightly afraid, Dumbledore cast a complicated spell to determine a person's sanity or state of mind. What he saw, left Dumbledore staring mouth agape.

Harry's mind contained two souls and another mind.

Harry's soul was completely white, the other soul and mind were a dark shade of grey and seemed to fight the white soul and mind. An inner war indeed.

Harry felt himself go back to reality because the eye-contact between himself and Snape had been severed. He was about to ask Dumbledore about how he had done, when he felt something attack his mind. But it was strange. The attack came from the inside of his mind. Who was there? Harry tried to concentrate on the way he had felt a moment before and slipped into his trance with little difficulty.

Someone was definetely in his mind. He could feel the presence. He searched for it and seeing the other presence in his mind, he realized it had to be Snape. What had Snape to do in his mind? The eye-contact was severed, he couldn't be there, could he? Harry decided to ask the foreign mind himself. He touched the darker mind and noticed another part of this darker thing in his mind.

Curiously, he looked at the other thing and when he touched it, he suddenly knew it was a soul. This disturbed Harry. What were Snape's mind and soul doing in his own mind? He touched the dark grey mind and felt fear radiate from it.

Suddenly he felt rather protective of this lost soul and mind. He touched the mind more gently and let some of his calmness enter the other soul and mind. The soul changed slightly to a lighter shade of grey, as did the mind. Now that the progress had begun, Harry noticed that his own mind and soul were purifying the foreign soul. He now knew they had to return to their own body as fast as possible.

He touched the mind once again and asked softly how it had come to be there.

Now, he got a reaction. A small voice, barely recognizable as Snape's answered him.

_I fell... I'm falling... Get me out of here, let me out..._

Harry thought about his occlumency lessons and tried desperately to push the foreign mind out of his mind. He struggled to push it out and succeeded finally. Though, the soul remained and was getting less dark all the time with Harry's white soul surrounding it.

Dumbledore watched Harry's mind through the monitoring-spell, fascinated.

First, Harry's mind had touched Severus' and then his soul. Now, Severus' soul was being purified. Suddenly, Harry's mind pushed against Severus' and pushed him out. The soul remained.

Apprehensive, he turned to Severus and got a look at him. He still looked soulless, but not empty anymore.

"Severus?" He asked tentatively.

"Are you allright?"

Albus' heart constricted painfully when he heard the monotunous voice of his friend.

"Potter has my soul." No emotion was on his face and Albus felt his heart break.

He turned to Harry and was able to catch a glimpse of Severus' purified soul before it was forcefully pushed out by none other than Harry's soul.

Albus watched Severus anxiously awaiting the reaction.

He didn't have to wait long, for Severus' face contorted in agony and his body convulsed.

When Severus opened his eyes, Dumbledore could tell, that he was back. His heart leaped and he hugged the man he thought of as his son.

Harry came out of his trance, slightly out of breath. It had taken great effort to push out Snape's mind, but his soul had been even more stubborn. It had taken him a while to realize he had to use his own soul to push the other soul out.

The sight that greeted him made him smile. Snape was being hugged and looked as if he was about to choke. Harry laughed openly know and drew Dumbledore's attention on himself. Big mistake. A second after this thought, he was enveloped in a warm hug from his headmaster, too.

He suddenly realized how it must have looked for someone from the outside and understood Professor Dumbledore's reaction. He smiled slightly.

"How long have we been doing this?"

"Over an hour. I cast a monitoring spell and could see Severus' mind and soul. I was afraid you wouldn't be able to push his soul out."

Harry hugged him back, everything that had been between them, forgotten.

He looked over to Snape and realized he was still looking the worse for wear.

He indicated this to Dumbledore, who went over to Snape and talked to him soothingly. Snape looked somewhat absent and detached.

After a few minutes, Dumbledore returned to Harry.

"I think you have proven that you were telling the truth. You are very skilled in occlumency. I would really like to discuss this more thoroughly, but it seems that Severus here isn't in a good state of mind at all. I'll bring him to Hogwarts to see Madam Pomfrey. She'll have him fixed up in no time." He smiled and the twinkle in his eyes returned somewhat.

"I'll be visiting tomorrow or the day after tomorrow to discuss this – happening. And probably there is something you want to tell me afterwards..." The twinkle in his eyes was really unnerving, thought Harry.

Dumbledore waved before he left, Snape in tow.

Harry shook his head, laughing quietly.

It was evening and Harry felt really exhausted because of this mind war. So, he settled down on his bed and proceeded to think about today's happenings.

He didn't know if the changes on Snape's soul had done anything to the man's character. Had he somehow damaged the man's mind? Snape looked so detached when he had left... Harry really hoped he didn't. He wouldn't be able to bear more guilt.

And what had he done? And how? He had only cleared his mind.

But then he remebered.

Snape was falling into a bottomless abyss.

Harry was in his own mind and encountered another soul.

The purifying of Snape's soul.

Harry's attempts at throwing out the other mind and soul.

Harry's success.

He knew now. He had somehow absorbed Snape's mind. It must have happened when Snape fell into the depths of Harry's eyes. Into Harry's mind.

He shuddered at this thought and vowed to himself never to do this again. He wouldn't absorb a mind or a soul again. Ever.

He noticed that his eyelids were heavy and he was barely under the covers when he fell asleep.

Phew. What do you think? All right or a little over the top? I wrote this half a year ago and I'm a little self-conscious. It's not my style of writing anymore. But you wanted another chapter, right?

Review to let me know your thoughts.

Taranis


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to JKR.

A/N: Hi everyone, I know I've been evil, not updating for weeks and weeks, but real life was extremely annoying. Thanks for the reviews and the encouragements, they really help me with getting over my bouts of lazyness.

Anyway, you might have noticed that Harry is acting very… childish. Maybe you'll only notice in this chapter. That's because he still is a child, at heart. He's only fifteen (sixteen now) and even if he acts all adult when his friends are in danger, I think he's still allowed to be weak at times. You might also notice that I wrote Dumbledore very… friendly with Harry. That's because I think Dumbledore truly cared for Harry, even if he manipulated him once in a while.

Anyway, this dandy, happy disposition will change soon. I'm glad to finally make Harry into an adult.

Chapter 3

It was near noon when Harry awoke. He got up annoyed, because he had to open the window and let Hedwig in. She had woken him in the first place. He would have loved to sleep some more, considering he still felt exhausted.

Actually, why did he feel exhausted? He had had much more intensive occlumency-lessons at Hogwarts and had never been this affected by them. He shrugged and made his way to the bathroom. It was difficult to keep on standing and Harry felt as though he was on a rocking ship.

After a quick shower, the world still didn't stop spinning and Harry really began to wonder why he felt so strange. He stumbled back to his room and bumped into the walls several times.

Back in his room, he sat down at his desk and felt something trickle down his forehead. Believing it to be sweat, Harry brushed it away, only to have his hand coated in blood.

Harry stared at it. He loved the colour of this liquid... so beautiful... he could barely stop himself from drooling all over his hand.

That was what he needed. Harry couldn't believe he had simply forgotten about his need for blood. For goodness' sake, he was a vampire! He counted the days since he had last drunk blood and came to a result that left him quite apprehensive. Three days. If after only three days he felt this craving, how would he manage at Hogwarts?

Well, three days was better than every day.

He was roused from his musings, when some more blood fell onto the desk he was sitting at. He quickly went over to the mirror that stood on the other side of his room and examined the damage.

There was so much blood on his forehead, a normal person would have fainted, but Harry was quite fascinated. He shook himself to not begin to drool all over himself again.

Apparentely, it was a laceration. It didn't look to be a deep wound and was nothing more than a small one. He sighed and cleaned his forehead with his hand. This time he didn't resist the urge to lick the blood off his hands.

When the wound was relatively clean, Harry bandaged his forehead with toilet paper. He looked quite funny, he thought.

Still a little exhausted, Harry dressed and exited the house to find someone he could take blood from.

Harry's vampire-instincts took over easily and led him through the streets of Surrey.

The park was rather empty at this hour and Harry hid behind a tree, awaiting his prey.

Soon, his sensitive hearing picked up a heartbeat and Harry waited in tense silence.

A lone man was jogging through the park and listening to music with an MP3 while doing so.

Harry's hunger and need for blood took over and he followed the man easily. Before his prey could round the corner to exit the park, Harry grabbed him from behind and dug his canines into the man's neck.

Harry sighed blissfully, as the man's blood filled his mouth. He drank quickly and licked the wound closed. The man was still conscious and made his way out of the park without even looking back. It seemed as though he had completely forgotten that Harry had been there.

Harry closed his eyes in bliss, tasting the remaining coppery tang and was about to jog back to his aunt's and uncle's house, when a weary familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

„Harry."

Harry was shocked to recognize the voice of Professor Dumbledore. His frantic mind tried to come up with something plausible to say -to explain- to justify this situation. „Professor, I-"

„It's all right, my boy. I know." The voice had a sad edge to it.

Harry already dreaded the answer when he hesitantly asked the question. „Have you seen...?"

„Yes." The headmaster sighed. "I suspected there was something you didn't want to tell me. You're a vampire."

Harry's head reeled with the possible consequences of Dumbledore knowing.

What if he wouldn't let him go back to Hogwarts? What if he thought he was dangerous? A danger to the students? Would he expel him and leave him at Privet Drive to live there until the Dursleys could legally kick him out?

His eyes began to water. He didn't want to leave Hogwarts. He needed his friends, they were like a family to him.

„Please, Professor. Don't expel me! I won't attack anyone, I'm not dangerous!" Harry pleaded desperately.

Dumbledore laughed softly, his eyes twinkling a little merrier than before. Then, his face became serious once again.

„Harry, I would never expel you. You will board the Hogwarts Express on the 1st of September just like your friends. Why shouldn't I let you come back?"

„I – Because I'm dangerous. I'm a vampire! How can you let a vampire go to your school? I'm a danger to everyone!"

„Harry, listen. Remus is a werewolf. Did that stop me from employing him? No. Why do you think I wouldn't let you come back? Hogwarts is the only place you are really safe."

„Thank you." Harry smiled weakly, unable to believe his luck.

They walked back to Privet Drive slowly.

Soon, they rounded the corner to Wisteria Lane.

Harry cleared his throat. „Professor, when can I go to Diagon Alley? I need to buy more black clothes." He gestured to his current apparel.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. „You could go now. I'm accompanying you, of course. But you might want to know what to buy for your next school year, too. think it would be better to first have your OWL results and the booklists?"

Harry sighed. „You're right. When are the booklists and the OWL results due? I hope they come soon, I don't fancy wearing the same clothes weeks and weeks."

Dumbledore stopped and began rummaging through the many pockets of his robe. A moment later, Dumbledore produced a thick envelope, smiling impishly.

„This are your OWL results. They aren't due for another two weeks, but I've already got yours. We can go book-shopping after all.", he said cheerfully, eyes twinkling more than ever.

Back at the Dursleys, Dumbledore flicked his wrist at the front door which opened without a sound.

„Can I learn how to do that?", Harry asked, impressed.

„What?"

„Um- wandless magic, you know the thing you did with the front door...", he wasn't so sure of himself anymore.

Dumbledore smiled. „Of course. It isn't that difficult for a wizard with your power. I don't doubt you are quite skilled in it. But I fear it will have to wait until the schoolyear starts again."

Petunia and Vernon weren't at home and Dudley ran away frightened when he spotted the aged wizard and his cousin. Dumbledore and Harry sat down in the living room and Harry proceeded to open the letter with his OWL results.

He scanned over the first part, something about '_Dear Mr. Potter, we congratulate..._' and began reading his scores.

_Astronomy: A (N/O)_

_Herbology: E (1 OWL)_

_Defense against the Dark Arts: O+ (2 OWLs)_

_History of Magic: P (N/O)_

_Transfiguration: O (2 OWLs)_

_Potions: O (2 OWLs)_

_Charms: O (2 OWLs)_

_Divination: D (N/O)_

_Care of Magical Creatures O (2 OWLs)_

_Congratulations! You scored 11__ OWLs. _

Harry couldn't believe it. 11 OWLs! He wondered how many Hermione would get.

„Congratulations, my boy. That is a commendable result."

„Thanks! Wow, I even passed Potions. I got into Snape's potions class!" Harry couldn't believe it… potions… maybe his career as auror wasn't as much of an unreachable dream as he had first thought.

„It's _Professor_ Snape, Harry.", Dumbledore said sternly. "But it isn't certain that Professor Snape will be teaching this year, his state of mind is still precarious."

Harry gulped and felt a wave of guilt flood through him.

Dumbledore seemed to know how Harry felt, because he patted him on the back softly.

„He is going to recover. It wasn't your fault."

„But it was! I – I absorbed his soul! I'm a dementor!"

That was too much for Dumbledore and he began snickering.

Harry became irritated. It was no laughing matter.

„It's not funny! What did I say?" He stared at the giggling Dumbledore.

„You said – you said you are a – dementor."

Harry frowned slightly, but the sight of the headmaster giggling was just too much. He joined in and soon they found they couldn't stop.

„We (giggle) should really get your books now (giggle)."

„Yes, we really (giggle) should."

After a few minutes they had succeeded to stop laughing and Harry got his wand and his Gringotts key from upstairs.

Dumbledore waited downstairs with a portkey.

„Is the dementor ready for Diagon Alley?" He started laughing again, but Harry silenced him with a mock glare.

„Yes, _Harry_ is ready."

They touched the quill and Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel before he was whisked away by the portkey.

Diagon Alley wasn't crowded as it normally was. The booklists hadn't been released yet and there were only some older wizards about.

First, they went to Gringotts and Harry removed some money from his vault. They entered Flourish and Blotts, got Harry's books and one book about vampirism.

As they exited the shop, they passed a new, small store with ten or even twenty cages containing different kinds of magical creatures, stacked in the window, making it impossible to see the interior of the shop.

„Professor, how many pets are allowed at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, his gaze resting on a cage which contained a bored-looking snake.

„One. But owls don't count as they are always out, why?" Dumbledore followed Harry's gaze.

„I would really like to get a snake, you know? A talking pet. Could I?" Harry couldn't tear his eyes off the snake in the window.

Dumbledore sighed and let Harry drag him into the store. The interior of the shop was dark and humid, probably to make the animals feel as safe as possible.

Both occupied and seemingly-empty cages lined the walls, stacked on even more cages.

Harry was looking around the shop, babbling excitedly.

„I would really like to have a snake as big as Nagini, you know?"

Dumbledore frowned. „Who is Nagini?" The name seemed to ring a bell.

„Voldemort's pet snake. She is really big." Harry strechted his arms as far as they would go in both directions trying to show how big a snake Nagini was.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently at the excited boy.

„Oh, _that_ snake... you can get a snake as big as you want, as long as it isn't a basilisk..."

„That's great. I want to give Ron and Hermione a real scare!" Harry sniggered.

He looked into the cages which contained smaller snakes. He quickly lost interest in them and looked for bigger ones. Unfortunately, there weren't any at display that were big enough.

Finally, Harry asked the shop-owner if they didn't have bigger ones. His answer was negative but he told them a shop near Knockturn Alley had bigger ones.

Harry nearly bolted out of the shop (with his enhanced speed that was really fast) and Dumbledore had difficulties with catching up with the over-eager teen. Soon they stood in front of the shop. It looked darker than the other, due to its proximity to Knockturn Alley.

Harry was much more satisfied about the snakes that were in this shop. He finally decided on the biggest that was in the shop. It was nearly Nagini's size and completely black.

After a short converstaion in which the snake made sure it would never be stuffed into a cage again, Harry went to the counter and payed 50 Galleons for Isis, his new pet-snake.

Harry couldn't carry her, because she was too big and she didn't want to be caged. That's why she insisted on being next to Harry all the time.

Harry discovered she didn't like Voldemort at all and that she would really love to scare his friends.

The last shop Dumbledore and Harry had to go to was Madam Malkin's and Harry was looking forward to buying new black clothes and scaring Madam Malkin with Isis.

Upon entering, Madam Malkin seemed quite afraid of Isis, but not to the extent that Harry had hoped. She said that she wasn't afraid, when Harry was there. Harry rolled his eyes behind her back and Dumbledore memorized the sentence to tease Harry later on.

Harry had thought up a good excuse for his need to wear black clothes, (he was still mourning Sirius' death) which would work with his friends too.

Harry bought new robes and two hooded cloaks, dress robes and many trousers, shirts and jumpers.

Harry left Madam Malkin's with only 7 knuts left and he and Dumbledore portkeyed back to Privet Drive. His new clothes would have to be charged on the next full moon, so he had to wear his old ones a few weeks more. Harry was glad that his school robes were black so that his wearing that colour wouldn't garner too much attention.

Back at the Dursleys Dumbledore promised to come by the next week with some blood so Harry didn't have to go hunting. When they parted, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. "You know, Harry, with you, I feel fifty years younger!"

Harry laughed and watched as the headmaster apparated away.

_This is my summer home, Isis. _Harry said when they stood before the Dursleys house.

_We will only be staying here for a few weeks before we can go to school and scare my friends._

_Oh, good. You said the people who live here__ are muggles. Will they be afraid of me too? _

_Yes. Definetely. But don't bite them, they'd throw me out._

_Oh well._

_Oh, by the way, do you need to be fed? Or can you hunt for yourself?_

_What animals live here?_

_Um, hedgehogs... cats...?_

_Oh, I like eating cats._

_Yeah, well, don't eat them all, they belong to an order member called Mrs Figg._

_All right, then I will eat hedgehogs mostly._

_How do you eat a hedgehog? Aren't they full of spikes? _

_I can show you. _Harry's snake said eagerly.

_Ugh. Never mind._

Harry knocked on the door and was greeted by a purple-faced Vernon, who looked ready to choke when he noticed Isis hisssing menacingly at him. His eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw his nephew hissing back. It seemed as though the boy spoke to the serpent.

He scurried away from the dangerous looking snake, angry beyond belief.

„BOY! What is this filthy animal doing in my household?"

„Isis isn't filthy and she will stay. I can talk to her and you would do better believing me for it won't be very pleasant for you should you upset me or her, do you understand?" Harry's voice hadn't been much above a whisper, but it had been quite intimidating for Harry's canines had lengthened while he spoke.

He turned his back on his uncle and made his way up the stairs, Isis in tow.

_You are a vampire._

_I won't eat you._

_As if you could._

_If that's settled__ then, let's just go to bed, we can talk some more tomorrow._

Harry sighed._ I'm really sorry, but we haven't got a fireplace in front of which you could sleep. You could sleep in my bed too, though._

_Master, you are most kind._

_Uh, Isis, just__ call me Harry._

_All right, Harry._

I hope you liked it. Drop me a line! I'd like that.


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just the plot to this fic. All characters and the like are J.K. Rowling's.

A/N: Hi again, I hope you're all happy that I updated so soon! I loved your reviews and I'm glad that you like Isis. I like her, too.

As to Barranca's question if Harry will be influenced by Severus because he had his soul in his mind... yes, he will attain some of Severus' personality traits, but Severus will be more influenced than Harry will be.

Okay, this chapter is a slight bit shorter than my usual ones, but I promise the next one's going to be longer.

I love this chapter because we see more of Harry/Isis, we visit Voldemort in his lair aaand guess who breaks into Grimmauld Place?

-888-

The next days passed quickly and every other day Harry would get an owl from Dumbledore, who sent him vials of blood.

Harry was relieved that the headmaster did this, as he wasn't comfortable drinking blood directly from human necks. It felt so animalistic.

If he were to be completely honest, though, he would say warm blood tasted a lot better than the cold blood in the vials.

Harry was currently sitting in his room.

He had finally succeeded in starting the re-reading of his potions textbook without falling asleep after the first paragraph and was now leaning over it, slightly intrigued.

If you really read the text, it could be quite interesting, he had to admit. The different uses of Avis-potion were amazing and Harry realized once more, how bad Snape taught his class.

Snape would write the instructions and ingredients on the blackboard and let everyone brew the potion. He never told them about exactly how the different components reacted with each other. The students couldn't see any pattern in their brewing and were, therefore, bad and unskilled in potions.

_Selfish man_, Harry thought.

He raised his voice and spoke in parseltongue.

_You know, there is this man, Snape- he is a git. _Harry wasn't quite sure why, but he felt like talking about it.

_He is the head of Slytherin house. They like snakes, but don't get friendly with them because of that, they are all imbeciles. Snape and Malfoy are the worst ones, apart from Voldemort, sure thing._

Isis, who had her long coils wrapped around Harry and his chair, looked at him understandingly and tilted her head head slightly to indicate he should go on. Her dark eyes glittered in the early afternoon sunlight.

_Snape deducts housepoints the whole time. _Harry ranted.

_He hates me because he and my father were enemies at school. He is a Death Eater, too. _He scowled._ Sanpe's a spy for the light side, though._

_He spies on the Dark Lord? That's very dangerous. Isn't the Dark Lord suspicous of him? I heard he is a great legilimens._

Harry considered. _Well, Snape is a good occlumens, I guess... Oh, did you know I trapped him inside my head once? I actually absorbed his mind and his soul into my mind. _

_Wow, I didn't know that was possible. That's scary, Harry. Or should I call you dementor?_

Harry glared_. I don't like that name. It reminds me of my encounters with them. _Harry shivered.

_Demi, then?_

_No._

He went back to his reading, although he couldn't focus.

Harry could hear Dudley watching and listen to porn with headphones on his computer in the room next to his and Petunia was humming to herself while working in the kitchen.

To top it all, the doorbell rang. Harry thumped his head onto the table, there was nothing of his previous concentration left.

'BOY! Get down here this instant, there is someone... _abnormal _at the door!'

Harry could picture how Vernon's face must look right now – red or some hideous shade of purple.

He chuckled and motioned Isis to follow him down the stairs. The huge, black snake followed him silently and Harry straightened his black clothes to look presentable.

Downstairs, he was greeted by Dumbledore, who was wearing a light blue robe which clashed terribly with the feather colour of Fawkes, who was perched on his shoulder.

Fawkes eyed Isis curiously and was being eyed by Vernon, who was definetely purple in his face, Harry decided. He pointed this out to Isis, who nodded her head emphatically.

'Ah, Harry, it is good to see you!' Dumbledore was much too cheerful, Harry decided.

'It's good to see you too, sir.'

Albus laughed delightedly, but then turned serious. 'The reason why I came here is because the wards are getting weaker around this house and you aren't going to be safe much longer.'

Harry frowned, but then his face lit up in realization. 'Am I going to the Burrow?'

Albus hated to crush the boy's hope, but he had to. 'No, the Weasleys are visiting Charlie in Romania. There is no one at the Burrow.'

'But where -' Harry stopped when it dawned on him. 'No. Not to – headquarters. Please, sir, I- I can't. It's... Sirius.' Harry nearly choked on the name.

Fawkes, seeing the boy's distress, trilled a soothing note and looked at Harry sorrowfully.

'Harry, that's the only place where you are safe enough. There will always be an order member around and it will be for a week only. On September 1st, you are already going to Hogwarts.'

Albus placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry sighed, defeated. He felt too tired to argue. He needed blood.

'All right, I'm going. And... um - did you bring blood?' Harry felt slightly awkward asking for blood- it felt so macabre. 'I feel tired and weak.', he explained. As if to prove his point, Harry's stomach grumbled and he grinned sheepishly, unvoluntarily showing his fangs.

Harry's sensitive hearing noticed Vernon, who had tried to look as though he wasn't listening or watching, gasp and take a few stumbling steps back.

An idea flashed through his mind and he winked at Dumbledore, before advancing on Vernon.

In a heartbeat, he had Vernon pinned against the wall, with exposed neck. He let his canines lengthen to scare his uncle and got the desired reaction.

Vernon turned completely pale and when Harry released him, he backed away from his nephew, his eyes horrified and wide, like an animal's.

Harry felt strangely satisfied at finally avenging himself and then turned to Dumbledore, Fawkes and Isis. They looked at him oddly.

'What?'

For good measure, he added, _what?, _in parseltongue. Isis stared.

_You moved very quickly, Harry. That was fast, even for vampire standards._

_That's everything?_

_No, _Isis hissed as she wrapped herself around his left leg,_ your eyes looked different. They seemed to – _she hesitated_ – swirl. They looked like fire. It was rather scary._

_You call me scary quite a lot..._

_But you are!_

_Yeah, I know..._

Dumbledore seemed to snap out of it and blinked several times to clear his eyes.

'Um, Harry, why don't we go upstairs and pack your things?'

Harry agreed distractedly. 'Sure.'

888

Packing lasted exactly ten seconds. Dumbledore simply waved his wand in a swirling motion and from every corner of the room, Harry's things flew, to land, neatly folded, in his trunk.

Downstairs, Harry shot another glare at uncle Vernon, Isis hissed, showing her fangs and then, they were off, touching a sock-portkey (clean, fortunately) Dumbledore had unearthed from the depths of his robes.

A moment later, Harry stumbled to the floor in the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Isis hissed in annoyance as he trod on her and he apologized profusely. Isis leveled a snake-glare, worthy of Snape, at him.

'I will explain why you had to leave the Dursleys, when I return, Harry. Now, I must be off, important order business, you know.' Dumbledore winked.

Harry nodded absently, occupied with trying to appease the mock-irate Isis.

The headmaster's eyes twinkled amusedly at the antics of Harry and his snake, as he excused himself and left.

The front door closed with a resounding thud.

Harry let Isis wrap herself around his neck and his upper body, noticing how light she seemed to him, and started to walk up the stairs. The house was very silent, making every creaking step sound louder than usual.

Harry wondered where everyone was; somehow Dumbledore seemed to have forgotten to mention that Harry would be completely alone.

He would have been a little creeped out if it hadn't been for Isis' reassuring weight on his shoulders.

_Where is everyone? _He voiced his question.

_The house is empty. I can smell no humans. _Isis replied after sniffing the slightly dusty air.

Harry sighed and felt a little disappointed._ Apparentely. I just... I thought there would be someone..._

Isis brushed her triangular head against Harry's cheek, comfortingly. _You've got me._

_Yeah. _Harry arrived at the top of the stairs and stepped through the door to 'his' room. _Look, this is where I sleep._ He stopped. The room looked emptier and more desolate than usual. Then, he noticed that it was Ron's bed that was missing. It must have been moved to one of the other bedrooms.

Isis tightened around his neck, choking him. Harry coughed and Isis loosened her coils a little.

She sounded a little embarrassed when she apologized. _Oh, I'm sorry. So, this is your lair?_

Harry laughed, forgetting the loneliness that had gripped him a moment ago. _Yes. My lair. ...I like the sound of that._

They entered the room and Harry threw himself onto the bed, careful not to crush Isis in the process.

He closed his eyes and without realizing it, drifted off.

888

Darkness surrounded his unconscious mind. Black, endless void. Nothing to disturb it.

Suddenly, Harry felt like he was falling from great height, unstoppably rushing towards the non-existent ground.

Harry's body jerked as he awoke, trying in vain to stop his fall. His eyes widened under his lids and shot open.

He lay on the bed where he had drifted off, Isis hissing in concern.

_It's okay, _Harry said, panting._ I'm all right. I was asleep. It was just... _He tried to explain what had happened. But he didn't know and had no idea why he still felt like he was falling, never arriving on the ground.

Feeling restless, he got up quickly, which was very quickly.

He had no idea what to do with himself. He paced, walking from one end of the room to the other. He did it again and again, ignoring Isis' hissed questions.

He remembered the vials of blood in his trunk and rushed downstairs and into the kitchen, hoping they would cure the strange restlessness he felt. Maybe he hadn't drunk enough blood the day before...

He stood in front of his trunk in less than five seconds and lifted it with both his hands, marvelling at the trunk's new lightness and his own speed.

Another eight seconds and he was upstairs, placing the trunk at the foot of his bed. His newly gained speed was beginning to grow on him and he grinned at the astonished Isis.

He opened his trunk and got out a vial with blood.

As soon as he saw the red, darkly shimmering liquid, he felt all control slip and unstoppered the vial with trembling hands. He tilted it an drank until the last drop.

He shuddered at the temperature of the blood and wished it was warm and fresh instead.

Harry let the blood settle in his stomach, but didn't feel any better after drinking it.

He felt like he should be doing something. Something extremely important- but at the moment he was ignorant as to what that important something was.

He couldn't sit down, he had to move.

And he started pacing again.

888

Lord Voldemort, meanwhile, was holding a Death Eater meeting. After his speech and the usual punishments, he had sat down on his throne-like chair, watching as Bellatrix tortured a wayward Death Eater.

The man was screaming bloody murder as he writhed under the Cruciatus and Voldemort smiled, satisfied. He would have let the man leave at this point, but Bellatrix seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.

So, he decided to indulge her.

When she looked at him for his permission to continue, he only nodded.

Bellatrix smiled insanely and proceeded to use another pain curse. The man screamed less than he had when he had been under the Cruciatus.

If Lord Voldemort were to be honest, he was a little bored and was about to order her to stop, when she moved her wand in a slashing motion, cutting the tortured man's clothes and chest.

The man screamed in pain.

Red, pulsing blood gushed from the wound and gathered in a deeply red pool on the stone floor around the victim.

Bellatrix laughed delightedly and looked at her Lord for approval.

But Voldemort didn't look at her. He couldn't tear his gaze from the blood that was still flowing from the man's wound. It had such a beautiful colour- red – it was his favourite colour. The colour of death. And the blood looked so... good. So appetizing... mouth-watering...

Without having noticed, Voldemort had stood and was standing next to Ballatrix' victim now, staring at the wound before him.

As he realized where he was, he frowned and gazed down again. The blood looked delicious to him. He forced his mind to start working again.

Abruptly, he turned around, his long black robes flying. The only thing he said as he exited the room was: 'Dispose of him.'

Behind him, he heard the man whimper and Bellatrix utter a disappointed _Avada Kedavra_, but he didn't care.

His mind was in a frenzy. What had happened in there? Why had the sight of blood made his mouth water?

Voldemort rubbed his temples and quickened his stride.

He had never craved blood. In his early days as Dark Lord, that fact had even disappointed him, because he thought it was creepy – a must for a Dark Lord. But the mere thought of drinking human blood had been so repulsive, that he had never tried.

Now, though, everything was different. He tried thinking about blood with disgust, but his body betrayed him.

His mouth watered and he couldn't stop thinking about how amazing blood would taste.

Deeply disturbed, Lord Voldemort stopped in the corridor.

He turned left, instead of right, entering the library instead of his personal chambers.

He would find out what was happening to him. And he would find a way to make it stop.

888

Harry had been pacing for two hours straight. An hour ago, Isis had given up on trying to talk to him, knowing he was too restless to even hear her.

Now, Harry forced himself to move to the library and sit down to read his Potions book.

He didn't feel any better now, but he felt he could control his urge to pace and the dread that came with his ignorance of the important thing he should be doing.

Harry wasn't eager to read about Potions – even if it _was_ more interesting than last year – but he told himself that he needed to stay in Snape's class, if he wanted to become an auror.

Suddenly, he wondered if he even could become an auror – being a vampire. Would they allow him to study alongside the other auror apprentices or would they look down on him and tell him that no, they didn't accept vampires – non-humans – into apprenticeship?

Non-human. Right. That's what he was. Not human. A monster. What was he thinking? Just because Dumbledore let him return to Hogwarts, didn't mean all of the wizarding world would make such exceptions for him.

And Harry didn't even want exceptions made for him. For the boy who lived. No. Not for the boy. For the vampire.

He sighed and was about to open the potions book, when he heard a loud noise.

Instantly aware of all sounds, Harry frowned.

Again, an even louder noise disrupted the silence. This time, Harry recognized it. It was the sound of the front door being openend and closed as silently as humanly possible.

Too bad that Harry wasn't human.

Even the soft steps that came from the entrance hall seemed to echo loudly through the house.

Harry tensed and walked cautiously and silently towards the sounds.

A few meters before he reached the hall, he heard the invader stop short and utter a surprised 'Harry!'.

Harry recognized that voice immediately. Even though it was tinged with surprise and disbelief, it still managed to sound warm and welcoming.

It was Professor Lupin.

Relieved, Harry stepped out of the room he had crossed before and walked up to his former DADA teacher. He was extremely happy to see him.

Lupin's eyes shifted over to Harry and his smile faded when he inhaled his scent. He frowned, seeming unable to understand soemthing about Harry's scent.

Suddenly, Harry knew that Lupin would ba able to smell that he was a vampire. He tried to divert the werewolf's attention, but it was too late.

Lupin was frowning deeply, now, his nostrils flaring. His amber eyes were scanning Harry from head to toe.

Harry resigned himself to being found out and let the man draw his conclusion. He met the werewolf's gaze unwaveringly, going as far as smiling at him, deliberately showing his canines.

Lupin took a step back, his eyes fixed on Harry's teeth. Then, his eyes flickered up Harry's again.

Amber met green.

At last, Lupin spoke. He seemed to have a hard time staying calm. 'How?', he ground out.

Harry felt sudden pain race through him at seeing his father's friend's expression.

'I don't know', he whispered.

-888-

Hehehehe, cliffhanger! Anyway, how did you like this chappie? And what do you think of Voldemort?

Thanks for reading and I hope you'll review!! Reviews make me happy! You make me happy! )

Taranis


	6. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter universe. Everything belongs to J.K.Rowling.

A/N: Hi, my lovely readers! I loved your reviews! Here you are. A new chapter just for you! I hope it appeases your curiosity!

Read on and enjoy!

-888-

At last, Lupin spoke. He seemed to have a hard time staying calm. 'How?' He ground out.

Harry felt sudden pain race through him at seeing his father's friend's expression.

'I don't know', he whispered.

'You have to know. Who did this to you?' His amber eyes looked savage. Harry could see the wolf in them.

'I told you. I have absolutely no idea. I woke up ony my birthday and I-', he gestured at his canines, '-had become a vampire. I can't explain how it happened. It just did.' His voice quavered and broke at the end.

Remus' eyes became slightly more human. 'No one attacked you?' He sounded genuinely surprised and- Harry breathed a sigh of relief- not at all accusing.

'No!' Harry tilted his head to the side, showing Remus his unblemished neck. 'See? There are no marks. I'm okay, believe me.'

The werewolf seemed to hesitate, his amber gaze resting on Harry's face. 'But how could it have happened? If you are sure no one attacked you...', he trailed off, looking pensive.

'I have no idea.' Harry sighed and an indiscernable look crossed his face.

'It's frightnening me.' He admitted quietly. Isis hissed quietly, butting her head against his knee.

Remus took a step forward, then, only hesitating a moment, he rested his hands on Harry's shoulders.

'We'll find out, Harry. I will help you. Together, we'll manage.' He closed the last of the distance between them and embraced Harry.

Only then, Harry noticed that all those weeks since he had become a vampire, he had never truly been able to relax. In Remus' arms, his control and calm seemed to crumble, making him feel raw and vulnerable.

Harry tightened his own grip on the werewolf, biting his lip, trying to contain the tears he felt welling up in his eyes. He didn't understand it. Why did he suddenly feel so confused and lost? Why did everything seem so unfair? Why did he have to become a vampire? That wasn't him. He didn't want to drink blood. He had always been human. He wanted to be. He was so scared.

A suppressed sob escaped his tight control, making him give up on trying to contain his emotions.

Tears ran down his face and he sobbed, unthinkingly. It felt so good to finally give in to the fear, to make it go away by crying, by accepting it.

It felt good to be held. It felt good not to have to be strong all the time. It felt good to be weak.

For a long time, that seemed like hours, Remus held him, saying nothing, just providing silent comfort as Harry cried.

888

Lord Voldemort was researching in his vast library.

A large tome lay open before him, written in an old language that was difficult to translate, even for him. But Voldemrt didn't give up, trying to find the reason for his sudden craving of blood.

But today it was even more difficult to translate the book than usual. He felt deeply unsettled. Voldemort couldn't understand why that was, but he felt restless nonetheless.

Only due to the tight reins he had on his emotions, he managed to sit still and read the book, without being driven crazy by his inexplicable uneasiness.

It still bothered him, though.

He read the beginning of a short passage about blood in rituals, realizing annoyedly, that the book was absolutely useless.

He slammed it shut forecfully, nicking his thumb on the old paper, accidentially.

Voldemort cursed, stood and placed the book on a stack next to him.

He sat down again, glaring at the small cut. He hated how vulnerable his body was. A mere _book_ could hurt him.

He sighed, aggravatedly and proceeded to suck the blood that had welled up.

And stopped.

He must have looked ridiculous to anyone looking at him now. Voldemort sat on his chair, thumb in his mouth, staring into the distance with a horrified look on his face.

Seemingly reluctant, he took his thumb out of his mouth again.

A little more blood welled up. It glistened wetly in the torch light.

Voldemort couldn't resist- he couldn't. He stuck his thumb in his mouth again, trying to taste every little drop of blood he could. It tasted heavenly.

He licked over the cut to ease more blood from it. And again.

He frowned suddenly. He held his thumb in front of him, scrutinizing it.

In the low, flickering light, his thumb appeared to be intact.

888

A few days later, on August 31st, Harry was just finishing eating breakfast with Remus.

The werewolf had been surprisingly accepting of the whole situation, even if Harry caught him sniffing the air with a frown, every so often.

He did it again.

Harry snapped. 'Problem with my scent? Just tell me, you're driving me crazy with your constant sniffing!' He glared.

Remus seemed taken aback. He hesitated a moment, looking at Harry oddly, but then answered, 'I am sorry if I offended you in any way, Harry...', he trailed off.

Everything seemed to come back to Harry in a rush. He shook his head as if to clear it.

Suddenly, his eyes widened.

'Oh Merlin! I'm so sorry, Remus! I... I don't know what made me say that! I didn't mean to snap at you!'

He looked thoroughly confused and apologetic.

'It's okay.' Remus soothed him, even though he looked a little confused.

But it wasn't. It wasn't okay. Harry knew it. He had lost control. He knew that he was prone to be frank, but he had never been that... aggressive. And he had never been as easily angered.

Harry stood abruptly, excusing himself. 'I... I think I have to be alone for a while... Sorry again, Remus...'

He left the man sitting in the kitchen and went into the library, sitting down in an armchair. Isis joined him, looking at him in askance. _Why did you shout at the werewolf? _She asked, concernedly.

Harry exhaled loudly. He put his head in his hands.

What had made him snap at Remus? Of course the man would be smelling the air – Harry's scent must have changed dramatically. That was no reason to become aggressive.

_I don't know. It just... came over me. I couldn't control it..._ Harry hissed distractedly.

He leaned back in order to ponder the issue some more, but a sudden and very strong urge to stand made him get up swiftly.

Harry was sure he had forgotten something. He needed to do something. Oh Merlin, he had to do something. But what? What...? It seemed to elude him.

Isis looked startled when Harry started walking the length of the room. What was it? He had to do it soon. Why didn't he do it _now_?? Why didn't he?

He paced some more. He started breathing in shallow gasps, the air not really entering his lungs. He increased his speed.

He felt so restless he could have screamed. He felt he needed to run, but he managed not to do it. Still, his legs strained to break into a run.

He needed to find it. Merlin, where was it? Where? Where?

Isis was hissing frantically, slithering next to him, but Harry couldn't seem to see her.

Harry's eyes widened, but didn't take in the room he was in. He was pacing extremely quickly, now.

His body seemed to scream for something. His mind joined in. _Where is it??_, it cried.

And in an inarticulate scream, Harry joined in unvoluntarily.

888

Alarmed by the scream, Remus came running from the kitchen.

Harry was crumbled in a heap on the floor, shaking and gasping for breath. His wide eyes looked right through Remus, making the man shake the young vampire in alarm.

Isis was curled around his arm, hissing something Remus couldn't understand.

Slowly, Harry's gasping breaths quietened down and his eyes focused on Remus. The green gaze held fear.

'What happened?', Remus asked.

Harry shook his head. 'I... I was sitting and suddenly I couldn't, anymore. I had to get up... I had to do something...' His eyes widened again.

Remus shook him, afraid that Harry would slip into that strange trance-like state again.

Harry's eyes returned to normal. 'I don't understand, Remus.'

The werewolf looked at Harry, shaking his head. 'Neither do I. I wish I did.'

888

Lord Voldemort was reclining in an armchair, twirling a wine glass containing a shimmering, burgundy red liquid between his fingers.

Upon closer inspection of the liquid, it could be noted that it wasn't wine.

It was blood.

Voldemort took another sip of blood, closing his eyes in momentary bliss.

After his strange reaction to the cut in his finger and his healing of it, he had stared at his finger for a moment, before everything had become clear to him.

He craved blood. He could heal a wound by licking it. Those weren't simply random gifts. Those were a vampire's abilities.

It had only taken a moment and then, Voldemort had come to his conclusion. He was a vampire.

And even if it was strange that it should happen now, it made sense, in a way.

Lord Voldemort remembered the years before he had been vanquished. He had always looked for a way to become immortal and that had led him to try to become a vampire.

He hadn't wanted to make himself dependant on another vampire, so he had procured vampire blood, consuming it.

He had drunk the blood, had injected it into his own bloodstream, but nothing had happened. No increased strength or speed nor any craving for blood. No immortality.

Voldemort had had no success. For about fifteen years, nothing had happened and he had forgotten about it.

Now, it finally worked. There was a catch, though.

Voldemort sighed aggravatedly, drinking a large gulp of blood.

The question remained, why had he turned now? Why not then? What had triggered his transformation?

He got up from his reclined position, making his way to his library.

The vast room was dark as he entered it. He flicked his hand, not even bothering to take his wand out, making flames leap from his hand, lighting the torches lining the walls.

The library was cast into flickering light, shadows deepening and lenghtening between the high shelves.

Voldemort sat down in his green armchair, beckoning the book he was currently reading over to him with a mere flick of his wrist.

It soared into his hands, reassuring him with its weight.

Slowly, he opened it to the first page. He had never deigned to read the first chapter. It had always been below him. It was the introduction, merely basic information about vampires.

Voldemort had assumed that he knew about that. But as he read the first chapter, he was proven wrong. A simple classification drew his attention.

_There are two types of vampires:_

_The submissive vampire comes into its power with its coming of age. This is to protect the vampire from danger before its bonding with its mate. Powers will manifest immediately upon transformation, on the condition of its mate's existence. If that condition is not fulfilled, the vampire's powers and urges (i.e. The craving for blood) will remain dormant until its mate is born. _

_The submissive vampire is generally smaller, but not necessarily less powerful than its dominant counterpart. _

_The dominant vampire develops its power and urges over a longer time, beginning with the transformation of its mate. Its full power develops upon bonding with its mate. That allows the dominant vampire to protect its mate from any danger. _

_The dominant vampire is taller than the submissive vampire and usually more powerful. _

Voldemort closed the book with a thud, dust making him cough.

He had known about the two types of vampires before. He had never considered, though, that he might not have transformed all those years ago, because his mate hadn't existed at that time.

Now, that he thought about it, it was so simple. He could have cursed himself.

Of course it had worked. He had become a vampire, then. He had only never thought about the possibility of him being a dormant vampire.

Now, he wasn't dormant anymore. That much was obvious, as his vampiric urges had appeared.

There was only one possible conclusion.

Lord Voldemort's mate existed and had transformed.

888

Harry sat in an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express, a glamour over his teeth, placed there by Albus Dumbledore himself. He didn't want his friends to know. Yet. He had no idea how he was to tell them that suddenly, over night, he had become a vampire. How was he to explain?

The answer was: he couldn't. And what if they would be frightened of him? Harry wouldn't be able to bear that.

He had always been different and they had supported him. But would they still lend their support if he was _very _different? He was dangerous.

Remus had encouraged Harry to tell his friends. He had said that, being his friends, they would still accept him. Remus had told him about James and his other friends' reaction to his lycantrophy. Of course they had been shocked at first, but they had even helped him, in the end.

Harry couldn't see how Hermione and Ron could help him. Harry was a vampire. They couldn't make it better. So he would spare them the pain of knowing.

Thinking of the devil, he noticed two figures outside his compartment, peering into it.

It was Ron and Hermione. He waved at them and they entered.

Hermione hugged him enthusiastically and Ron merely nodded at him, smiling.

Harry hugged Hermione back, but let go soon because he was very much aware- maybe too aware- of Hermione's blood pulsing in a vein near her neck.

Harry cursed inwardly for not remembering to tell Dumbledore to cast a glamour over his eyes, too.

He would tell the headmaster as soon as they reached Hogwarts.

'Harry! How were your holidays?' Hermione asked excitedly as they had all settled down and Ron had stowed their luggage away.

Harry hesitated. His holidays... had been interesting. 'Um. Normal. Boring. You know the Dursleys...', he trailed off, hoping they would be satisfied with that piece of information.

Hermione tossed him a compassionate glance. 'Oh, Harry. I feel so guilty. Ron and I had such amazing holidays while you were stuck with those horrible muggles.'

Ron nodded vigorously. 'I'm really sorry you couldn't come to the Burrow. You can come on Christmas if you'd like. Romania was great, though. Charlie has this huge orange dragon. It was so amazing- it could breathe fire for minutes!!'

And he started on an exciting tale of his holidays, making Harry slightly envious.

Only a moment he thought about telling them about his transformation, but at seeing their happy and carefree faces, he decided against it.

For the rest of the ride, he leaned back, listening to their account of their holidays, occasionally throwing in a comment or two. He was grateful that they hadn't noticed anything about his slight change in appearance and he guessed it must look to them like he had merely grown up a little over the summer.

They had no idea, how much he had changed.

Isis, who was curled up on the seat next to Harry and had already been fussed over by Hermione, gave a sleepy snort.

Harry smiled, knowing that Isis knew what he was thinking. It felt good to have one confidant, at least.

888

The sorting had just ended, when Dumbledore stood to address the school.

'Welcome! Welcome back. I would like to introduce your new old DADA teacher. Remus Lupin!'

An enormous applause and many murmurs flooded the hall as Remus stood, smiling embarrassedly.

Even some pupils of Slytherin House were applauding. The Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables were louder, though. They were happy to welcome back the best DADA teacher they had ever had.

Harry clapped the loudest, grinning. It was a surprise that Remus would teach. He hadn't told Harry he would be returning to Hogwarts.

Harry gazed at Remus as the blushing werewolf was seating himself. Soemthing seemed to catch Harry's eye as he moved his eyes from Remus.

To the man's left, Snape sat, looking strangely out of it.

He was looking around the hall, confusedly, but when his eyes rested on Harry, they seemed to regain some of their depth and calm.

Harry stared back, riveted. He could drown in those eyes, he had done it before... his mind grew blank, but Harry managed to shake his head furiously, focusing on the picture of Snape's eyes again.

Snape still gazed at him serenely.

It confused Harry to realize that those eyes held no hatred or annoyance.

Even worse- he noticed with dismay, that the obsidian eyes didn't even seem to recognize him.

-888-

What do you think? Too much Voldemort? Any questions about vampire-lore? I'd be happy to answer.

Anyway, I hope you'll review. Make me happy!


	7. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I don't own anything form the Harry Potter universe, as everything belongs to J.K. Rowling! She's great!! I'm so happy she exists! laughs

A/N: My lovely readers!! I'm so amazed. You're all so great. I loved all reviews I got and I'm so happy that there were so many! Thank you all, keep it up! I write -you review. ) Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Morganzola, a great friend of mine, who had motivated me a lot! She's the reason you all get this chapter right on time! Thanks!

Now, I don't want to withhold the story anymore-

read on and ENJOY!!

-888-

After the welcoming feast, Harry told his friends to go ahead to Gryffindor tower without him. The way Snape had looked had scared him and even though Dumbledore hadn't said the man was all better, Harry had expected to see Snape in a semblance of his usual, bad mood.

But that hadn't been the case. Snape's eyes had been empty and without their usual glare, they looked dead. Harry shivered and made his way to the headmaster's office.

Arriving in front of the gargoyle, he realized that he had no idea what the password was. He resigned himself to guessing, which didn't get him very far.

After almost twenty guesses, the gargoyle still blocked the moving staircase, making Harry give up and leave. He needed to know what was up with Snape. It was his fault, after all, that the man was in this situation. A twinge of guilt made Harry quicken his steps.

The door to his DADA teacher's quarters was closed as Harry arrived, but he was sure the werewolf was there. He was absolutely convinced he was. Why he knew that with such certainty, Harry didn't know. And he didn't much care, for his mind was focused on the haunting image of his Potions Professor staring emotionlessly at him.

Harry knocked.

Remus opened the door, looking surprised for a moment and was about to say something, when Harry interrupted him.

'Remus, can I come in? It's about Snape. It's important.' He bit his lip in concern.

The man nodded, '_Professor _Snape', he distractedly corrected Harry.

Remus stepped aside and ushered Harry over to a comfortable looking sofa. They sat down and Remus asked, 'Why do you want to talk about Severus?'

Surprised, Harry looked up from his fidgeting hands. 'You didn't notice?', he asked.

How couldn't he have noticed? Remus had been sitting at the head table, too. Someone must have told him about Snape's... condition.

Seeing the werewolf's confused expression, Harry concluded that no, no one had told the man.

'It's... In the summer holidays Snape came over to the Dursleys' house to test my Occlumency. I somehow sucked his mind and soul into my mind and something happened and then I returned his mind and soul to him, but they weren't the same as before- now he acts really strange- like he's not himself.' Harry said in a rush. He glanced at the werewolf, who seemed a little overwhelmed.

'No, I haven't been informed about that.' He said slowly. 'Why didn't you tell me when we were at Grimmauld Place?'

Harry tried to remember why he hadn't told the man, but couldn't seem to find a reason why he hadn't.

'I don't know. I guess I forgot. Dumbledore had told me that he was better, so I wasn't as worried... and I think I didn't talk about Snape because of all this...', he gestured at himself, referring to his being a vampire.

Remus nodded. 'So, he's changed? How?' He seemed oddly concerned, Harry thought. Well, they were colleagues, after all.

Harry remembered the serene look in Snape's eyes. 'He seems like a different person. Right after I sucked out his soul, he was unconscious, so I wouldn't know how he would have acted then. But now... he looks so odd. Like he... doesn't recognize me. He didn't glare and his eyes... were so dead, somehow.' Harry trailed off.

'Do you believe he has some kind of amnesia? That he looks like that because he can't remember?' Remus asked softly.

Harry mind latched onto the amnesia theory. 'Yes! That would make sense. He did seem lost, somehow.'

Harry felt relieved at having found a plausible explanation.

But Remus frowned. 'You know, he won't be able to teach if he indeed has amnesia.'

Harry watched the man as he seemed to loose himself in thought.

Suddenly, Remus sat up and glanced at Harry.

'Harry, I'm sorry to dimiss you like this, but I have to speak to the headmaster about this.'

Harry nodded, a little disappointed. 'Thanks for your time, anyway.' He made to walk out, but Remus stopped him. 'I nearly forgot- I have an idea why you felt so restless and more aggressive. It's strange that I didn't think of it immediately, when you had that seizure in Grimmauld Place. It's something all vampires experience. And a submissive vampire like you is bound to feel even more restless than a dominant one would...' He looked thoughtful for a moment.

Harry had no idea what the man was saying. He was submissive? How would the werewolf know? And what exactly did that mean for him, being submissive?

'Um. What? I'm submissive? Why?' Harry asked in confusion.

Remus seemed genuinely surprised that Harry didn't know what he was talking about.

'You're a submissive vampire, Harry. You are feeling restless because you need to find your mate soon.'

Harry gaped, flabbergasted. 'What? Oh Merlin, a MATE?'

He didn't want to have a mate... that was so animalistic. He wanted to have a choice in whom he was going to be with. Harry was annoyed with himself for not paying attention when they had learned about vampires in DADA. He would have a mate? What if he didn't want to? What if he refused?

'What if I refuse to have a mate?' Harry asked, belligerent.

'You cannot choose to not have a mate. You are meant for your mate and vice versa. He or she will need you as much as you will need them.' Remus tried to explain.

'_He_ or she?' Harry asked, clearly unbelieving. 'My mate could be... a man?!' Harry's face contorted into a disgusted grimace. 'No way. That's just so... ew!'

Remus looked a little sad. 'Harry, it's not unusual for men to be together in the wizarding world. Your family may have told you that being with someone of the same sex is bad and unnormal, but that's not true. That's the muggle way of thinking about same-sex relationships. Wizards have no such concerns. I wish you could accept that.' He looked at Harry intently.

Harry suddenly felt bad for being so ignorant and apologized, realizing he had somehow hurt the man with his reaction.

'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. It's just... you're right. The Dursleys did tell me that gay men were unnormal people- I guess it's become a habit of mine to think that gay people are... disgusting.' Harry flinched at the last word.

Appeased, Remus waved his hand. 'It's okay, Harry. You understand that your mate might very well be male. And as soon as you get to know your mate, you will never want to be parted again. Really.' Remus smiled encouragingly.

Harry returned the smile, still feeling a little numb due to shock. He would have a mate...

'Um... When will I find my mate?', Harry asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

'That depends. If your mate is in England, chances are that you will find him or her, soon. But if your mate is in some other part of the world...', Remus gazed out of the window, into the distance, '-it might take a lot longer.', he finished.

'How will I know? I mean, if I see my mate, will I recognize her?', Harry asked and was quick to add, '-or him?'

Harry's mind was working quickly, going over all Hogwarts students, to see if his mate could be one of them. Maybe he had liked Cho so much, because she was going to be his mate?

But merely thinking about her in that way made him a little nauseaous, it felt so wrong.

'Of course,', Remus answered, 'you will recognize your mate on sight. It feels like... all pieces seem to fall into place, suddenly...' His eyes wandered out of the window again, a wistful look crossing the werewolf's face for a split second.

Harry caught the expression and was suddenly struck by the thought, that maybe Remus had a mate, too, somewhere. He was a werewolf, after all- a fellow dark creature.

A little hesitant to ask because of the pained look on Remus' face, Harry asked, 'You seem so... Well, you seem to know so much about this. Do werewolves have mates, too?'

Remus focused his eyes on him sharply, though the pain in them stayed. 'Yes, we have.' He merely said.

'So... um... why don't you -um- find your mate?' Harry felt so awkward asking this, concerned that he might hurt the man's feelings without intending to.

A subtle longing replaced the pain in the amber eyes. 'I... have already found her.', he confessed, finally. From his tone of voice, Harry gathered it wasn't easy for the werewolf to talk about this.

'Can you- can you tell me?', he asked carefully.

Something inside of Remus – maybe it was resolve- seemed to loosen, because he slumped down on the sofa a moment later.

'My mate... it's- Tonks.', Remus whispered, casting his eyes downwards.

'Oh.' Harry had no idea what to say. He had noticed that Remus seemed to be interested in Tonks, but it had never occured to him that she was his mate.

And suddenly, Harry knew why the werewolf had looked so wistful, before. He and Tonks weren't together. Harry was even sure that she didn't really notice his interest in her.

He seated himself next to Remus and squeezed his hand in comfort. 'And she doesn't know, right?'

The man next to him swallowed thickly and nodded.

'Then tell her!' Harry said eagerly. 'Tell her you're her mate! Tell her you love her.'

Remus shook his head vehemently. 'I can't, Harry. It's not that easy. I'm a werewolf. She won't have me...', he bowed his head on defeat.

'Nonsense.' Harry said fiercely, unable to explain what he was feeling, but what he knew was that he didn't wan t Remus to suffer. 'She likes you a lot, already. It's obvious. You just have to...'

Harry had no idea what Remus was supposed to do. He realized that he, himself, wouldn't know what to do if his mate didn't want him.

'It's difficult.'

Harry sighed in agreement and then turned to face the werewolf. 'You should try, though. She's worth it.'

Remus smiled sadly and got up. 'I have to go now, Harry. You can come here anytime you want. Tell me immediately if you find your mate.'

Harry nodded numbly and exited the DADA professor's rooms.

Up in the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Hermione asked where he had been, but Harry didn't answer.

888

Harry closed the curtains around his bed, allowing Isis to curl around his left leg.

_What happened?_ She asked, concern evident in her voice.

_I was going to going to ask Remus about Snape, but that's not important right now._ Harry sighed. _Remus told me that I am a submissive vampire and... I have a mate, Isis. _

The snake lifted her head to look right into Harry's green eyes. _A mate? Who?_

_I don't know, yet. Remus said how soon I'll find it depends on my distance to him or her._ Harry stretched out his hand to scratch Isis' triangular head, finding the contact of skin to scales oddly comforting.

_Are you happy?_ Isis asked, leaning into his caress.

Harry shrugged- he really didn't know what to think. He told Isis so.

_I think it's good._ She said immediately after his confession. _Someone to make you happy and someone to be with forever- normal humans don't get such a chance. _

Harry sighed- if only it was that easy. _It's difficult._ Harry said, echoing Remus earlier words. _I don't really need a mate! I don't even want one, now._

_Maybe you will want your mate when you meet him or her_. Isis mused.

_Okay. But what about... what about Voldemort?_ It hadn't occured to Harry before but now he realized that if he were ever to have a mate, that that person would always be in danger of the Dark Lord.

_I don't want to endanger any other people. I have to protect my friends and everyone I care about, I can't protect my mate of him, too. _

Isis gave a snake-like laugh. _Harry, think about it. I think you won't have to worry about your mate. If what Remus says is true and you are a submissive vampire, then your mate will obviously be the dominant one. He or she will be able to look after themselves. _

Harry doubted it. Voldemort was no normal threat, he was an extremely powerful Dark Lord.

He resolved to not actively try looking for his mate and hoped for his mate's sake that he or she wasn't at Hogwarts.

_I will just ignore it. I won't find my mate._ Harry said with fierceness.

Isis looked at him sadly.

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But, as he lay awake in bed, midnight already gone by, Harry realized that ignoring his mate wasn't going to be easy.

He hadn't been able to sleep and on top of that, the restlessness he had felt before had worsened, as if responding to his denial of his mate.

Harry tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. His mind wouldn't shut down, showing him the faces of everyone he knew -as possible mates.

Harry didn't know then, though he suspected it, that he wouldn't sleep all night.

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The next morning dawned slowly and early. Harry watched tiredly and impatiently as the rays of sunlight grew stronger and lightened the room.

A quick _Tempus! _showed that his house mates wouldn't get up any time soon.

Harry groaned.

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Harry was glad that it was Saturday. He wouldn't have had the necessary concentration for classes. His eyelids felt so heavy and blinking was a dangerous thing to do, as he was tempted to keep his eyes closed and never open them again.

His friends worried and Harry felt bad about ignoring them the day before. It wasn't like they had done anything wrong. It was Harry's fault alone. He was distancing himself, not the other way around- as much as it felt that way.

Harry felt like they couldn't understand, but that was his fault, too. He hadn't told Ron and Hermione about his transformation. But could he? How would they react?

Not caring to find out at the moment, Harry started up a conversation, and, even though he was so tired, he tried to sound cheerful. And a part of him really was happy to be back at Hogwarts.

Entering the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry couldn't help glancing to the staff table. Snape looked just like he had the day before. Dark eyes slid over the house tables, his expression never wavering in its serene calm.

And his gaze settled on Harry, frozen as he stood in the double doors. Harry held his breath.

Snape's eyes wavered a little, not quite recognition, but a confused sort of look. A frown passed over his features, as though he was trying to unravel a mystery. An intense look stole into his eyes and left them as quickly as it had appeared.

Snape's eyes left Harry's to roam uninterestedly over the Ravenclaw table, the spark Harry had seen, extinguished.

Shaken, Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione who had noticed how Snape had stared at Harry for a moment, looked at him in askance.

Harry decided then, that even if he hadn't told them about himself, he should at least tell them what he had done. He couldn't just keep everything for himself.

And so he told them about his summer, editing his birthday and the following weeks heavily.

Finishing his report of his holidays, Ron stared at him. 'Wow, mate, you're really scary, you know?' He shook his head. 'Sucking out Snape's soul... wow. You won't hear me complaining, though.' Ron grinned.

Harry forced himself to laugh along, even though he felt really bad for Snape.

Hermione didn't find it all that funny as she sat opposite of the boys, seeming to be deep in thought.

Harry was glad that she, at least, was taking this seriously and was trying to find an answer. Harry was sure that with Hermione's help he'd find out sooner than without.

Harry looked at Snape again, trying to catch his gaze, but the man was busy staring at his food.

888

Half an hour ago, Lord Voldemort had given up on trying to sit still.

Now, he was pacing his chambers, unable to think of his plans and machinations for the time being.

He would have been annoyed at his mate to-be, if he weren't so sure that his mate was going to make him even more powerful than he already was and- immortal.

Excitement coursed through his body like a drug, appeasing his restlessness a little.

He needed to find his mate soon. He needed his powers to finish Potter off as soon as possible. The humiliation he had felt after the battle in the Department of Mysteries was still easily recalled.

He, Lord Voldemort, wouldn't be mocked anymore. It was time for Potter to die.

Voldemort didn't notice the twinge of pain in his soul at the thought of killing Harry Potter-

he was too busy thinking about a possible way how he could get his mate out of the way and still get his full powers.

After all, its mate was a vampire's most precious possession and Voldemort wasn't going to take chances. He would be vulnerable if he indulged in the pleasure of having a mate.

And he couldn't afford to be.

The problem was, to get his powers, he would need to bond with his mate, to find it and mate with it. And from the books he had read about the subject, he had learned that a vampire would never want to leave its mate. No matter what.

But Lord Voldemort was confident. He had a strong will, amazing powers and he had time on his side. He was technically 70 years old – the age, where wizards were in the prime of their life - and he knew how to control himself. Mentally and physically.

888

It was already dark, when, clad in a long black robe, with a hood concealing his face, Voldemort apparated away, following the ache in his chest.

A sudden pressure against his metaphysical body made him aware of the fact that he was unable to apparate to the destination his soul tried to take him to.

Annoyed, Voldemort summoned his power, pushing against the barrier keeping him at bay.

It refused to budge. He let his power flow and push against the magic, wondering why his mate had such strong wards around their house.

But he didn't manage to break them. That annoyed him, as he never failed. Knowing a lost cause when he saw one, he pulled back and decided to apparate outside of the wards.

Darkness surrounded him, when he appeared again. Voldemort saw a forest, dark and forbidding, inf ront of him. He didn't recognize it on first glance.

Confused, although he would never admit it, he turned around.

And took a step back at what he saw on the crest of the hill before him.

Beyond huge double gates and a vast expanse of grassy hills, a castle towered.

Voldemort was very familiar with this castle.

It was Hogwarts.

-888-

Okay, Voldemort has just arrived at Hogwarts. Imagine his surprise at learning that this is where his mate lives! Poor him. Haha

What do you think? More Voldemort? And what about Remus? And Harry? And Snape? Tell me your opinion.

Review, please! )


	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own anything - everything from the Harry Potter universe belongs to the great J. K. Rowling.

A/N: My readers! I love you! You wrote so many encouraging reviews! That's why you get a veeery interesting chapter today! I'm sorry I didn't post this yesterday- I was too busy teaching.

So I had to write the whole chapter today...

Anyway, this chapter, again, is for the lovely Morganzola! And, of course, for everyone else who is reading this (the story, I mean- not my rambling)!! )

One last thing: Morganzola, pay attention (hehe):

Mein 'grober schwebender' Lon ist immer noch widerlich. Dies Kapitel ist für dich, ich hoffe es gefällt dir! ;-)

Yeah... Anyway. Go on, read and enjoy! (and review?)

-888-

In the twilight, the high windows of the castle gleamed with light in the distance.

Hogwarts?

Voldemort felt surprise course through him at seeing the castle.

Quickly, he walked into the shade of the first trees of the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't be seen.

He had been convinced that there were no vampires at Hogwarts. Nor had he known that there was a dormant vampire, there. It didn't make sense.

There were only two possible explanations. Either there had been a dormant vampire at Hogwarts he hadn't known about or someone at Hogwarts had been turned recently.

And as far as he knew, there had been no dormant vampires at Hogwarts. How could there be? At least one parent of the dormant vampire had to be a vampire. And Voldemort knew everything about the parents of Hogwarts' sixth years. He knew that there was no sixth year with a vampire as a parent.

That left one conclusion to be drawn.

Someone at Hogwarts must have been turned.

Voldemort was very relieved at that, as he hadn't been sure how to seduce a recently transformed sixteen-year-old. Now, the odds were a little better that an adult had been turned. But merely a little, Voldemort thought, annoyed.

There was another problem, though. Voldemort hadn't counted on his mate living in such a strongly warded place. Of course, normally, it was no problem for him to break wards- with his power that was an easy task. But Hogwarts' wards... they were there to ward _him_ off, specifically.

He glanced at the high gates again.

No, he wouldn't enter through those. They were too heavily warded. The forest, though...

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Saturday crawled by slowly. If Harry hadn't felt as uneasy as he did, he would have fallen asleep now, playing chess against Ron.

But as it was, Harry was as awake as he could be and at the same time extremely tired. His body felt sluggish and heavy, while his mind was racing. Harry had no idea why, but he was darting glances everywhere, always expecting to find something.

What he was looking for at first escaped him, but as his restlessness grew more pronounced, he realized what the problem was.

Again, his vampire self was longing for his mate. A deep ache made itself known, as he thought about it. He tried to think about something else, but his thoughts kept drifting back.

Who would his mate be? Was it at Hogwarts? Maybe his mate was in Gryffindor? Maybe he or she was only a few meters away from him, without Harry's knowledge?

Harry glanced at a group of seventh years, who were doing their homework in a corner of the common room. None of the students caught his eye.

He sighed and suddenly grew aware of someone shaking him. Annoyed, he glared at the offending person and was surprised to see it was Ron.

He looked concerned and a bit frantic.

Harry blinked. 'What is it, Ron?'

Ron seemed very relieved. 'Harry! You didn't answer when I talked to you and you didn't move and...'

Harry frowned. What...? 'Oh, sorry, Ron, didn't mean to scare you... I guess I was lost in thought...' He tried to sound soothing. Merlin, the situation with his mate was really taking its toll on him. He ignore his feelings and focused on the game of chess.

Harry flashed a grin at Ron and quickly told his rook to take one of Ron's pawns.

The red-head was immediately distracted and the worried look in his eyes left them quickly.

888

By the time Harry and his friends went to the Great Hall for dinner, it had become exceedingly difficult for Harry to hide his growing unease. His friends had no idea, of course, why he was so silent and distracted.

Hermione, especially, had asked him repeatedly what was wrong with him, but Harry had just told her he had had a bad night, with nightmares. He was glad that both his friends seemed to buy it.

They still darted worried glances at him, but he just tried to ignore those. They weren't as important as... well, as...

Harry didn't really know, actually. There was just... this... feeling that he needed to do something... or that something was happening... something _good_... _very good..._

A little disturbed, Harry focused on eating, even though he had drunk some blood earlier. What the hell was he thinking? Lately, his thoughts and feelings didn't make any sense to him. It was as though he couldn't control what he felt.

That should have worried him, but it didn't. After all, something was happening, _finally_. Finally he felt it coming. It wasn't quite there, yet, but it was nearer, metaphysically at least.

'D'you want any more of that?', Ron asked Harry with his mouth full, pointing at the mashed potatoes.

Shuddering, Harry blinked repeatedly. What...? Ah yes. Potatoes. 'Um. No, you can have all of that. I'm not very hungry...', Harry said, wondering about his odd thoughts.

What was coming? How did he know that? He wasn't clairvoyant, was he? A seer?

No, he wasn't. He didn't even know what was coming. He tried thinking about it very hard, but the answer didn't come to him. But he still couldn't help feeling like deep inside him, in some part of him, he knew.

Hermione touched his arm and Harry turned his head toward her abruptly, looking at her sharply.

For a second, she appeared to be taken aback and Harry hoped the glamour over his eyes was still working. But the odd look in her eyes left them quickly.

'You should really eat more, Harry. You always eat so little! That can't be healthy.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I'm not really hungry. I sneaked to the kitchens two hours ago.' He smiled at her reassuringly, but at the same time, he cursed. She paid too much attention to a him and to his habits. Of course, he should have known - she was Hermione Granger after all. Harry just hoped she wouldn't discover his secret. He didn't know how his friends would react and he didn't want to find out. He would have to be more careful.

Hermione was frowning. 'Why didn't you take us along?'

To the kitchens? Harry tried to come up with an excuse quickly- he hadn't been to the kitchens, after all.

'Um... you were so immersed in your homework and I was sure you weren't hungry...', he trailed off. He breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled. His mind was growing a little fuzzy when she answered.

'That's true. The homework Professor Vector gave us is so-'

But Harry didn't hear the rest. Deep inside him, something had snapped. It felt a little familiar now. He had felt the same once before. He had felt it at Grimmauld Place. And was feeling it now.

He needed to find him. Him. Where was he?

The Great Hall and all students in it suddenly seemed hostile to him.

Fear coiled around his stomach.

He felt so alone. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted to be safe... to be saved.

Harry's body trembled as dread flooded him. His eyes flickered around the hall, trying to find a way to escape... and fell on the double doors. His eyes widened.

He needed to be protected. Where was he? Why was he still alone? Still?

A scared whine was trying to claw its way from his throat and Harry suddenly grew aware that he was breathing faster and faster.

With the last ounce of willpower, he forced himself to stand up calmly.

'Where are you going?' Ron asked, confused.

Quelling the panic he felt rising in his blood, he looked at his best friend.

'I need to go', he ground out and turned towards the doors.

With his enhanced hearing, he noticed Ron getting up. He turned around a last time. He knew his eyes must look dangerous, just like those of a cornered animal's.

'Stay', he ordered tersely.

Ron sat down with a thud, looking surprised at himself for obeying.

Harry saw no more of that and didn't notice the whispers, as his rising panic forced him to walk out.

As soon as he had left the Great Hall behind, he lost his control.

His fangs elongated in an unconscious defensive mechanism and his sight grew blurry. With trembling hands, Harry discarded his glasses.

They fell to the stone floor.

The sound echoed off the high stone walls. It made Harry realize the size of the hall... the dark corners... empty... or not so empty, maybe.

Harry suddenly was convinced that there was someone in the entrance hall.

He turned in all directions, darting around from one corner to the next, staring around wildly.

Why wasn't his mate there? Why wasn't he rescuing him? Rescuing him from this...

His breath was coming in gasps and Harry suddenly felt the urge to run. He charged outside.

It was already growing darker and the sun painted the clouds orange and violet.

But Harry didn't stop to look. He needed to be safe. Where was his mate?

He took a few steps towards the greenhouses but his fear only intensified, making him turn on his heel and walk towards the forest and the lake.

Harry quickened his steps. Moving in that direction was good, he felt. He should keep on going there.

So he did. With every step he took, the fear that had constricted around his heart grew less and less pronounced.

Finally, Harry arrived near the shore of the lake. The trees of the Forbidden Forest were dark silhouettes against the darkening sky and Harry felt at ease, again.

A lone tree stood near the lake, only a hundred meters from the forest. Harry sat down underneath it.

His breath was coming normally again and Harry felt some embarrassment at his panic attack. Of course, it wasn't his fault, it was his inner vampire that was at fault.

It merely irked Harry that he was so weak... he couldn't even keep from running out of the room in fright, just because he didn't have his mate. He was stronger than that. He had to be. He couldn't afford to have a mate.

Harry was glad that the attack had ceased. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to regain control easily. But why had it ceased? Why hadn't it continued and continued, up to his breaking point?

The shadows lengthened and the sun vanished behind the horizon. Twilight.

Harry hated the twilight. He could see very well at daytime and at night, he could see even better... but in the minutes between day and night... now... this was the only time his sight was less than perfect. He wished he hadn't dropped his glasses in the entrance hall.

He sighed.

A warm breeze tickled his skin.

Harry was content, sitting there under the tree, just relaxing... there was nothing that could threaten him. Everything was all right.

It was even more than all right. It was... great. Everything was calm and Harry found his earlier fear and restlessness strange and irrational.

His content seemed to grow as the seconds ticked by.

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Lord Voldemort liked the twilight. It was the perfect time for hunting. There was too little light for his prey to see him and just enough for him to find his way.

And making his way, he did.

He had been walking for some time now, the dark forest appearing to welcome him. The first stars glittered in the darkening sky. It was a wonderful evening, Voldemort thought.

The trees were farther apart now and there was less underbrush. He was nearing the edge of the forest, he knew.

With every step he took towards Hogwarts, the previously painful ache in his chest seemed to be soothed. Voldemort's step lightened and he felt an overwhelming urge to smile. He felt that his mate wasn't far. Not far at all.

As he reached the edge of the forest, he felt the ache leave him fully.

He stopped short, gazing at the lake. It held his attention, without him knowing why. It was good to look to the lake. It felt good. He should go to it.

Recognizing the telltale signs of mind control, Voldemort stopped himself from following the call he felt from the direction of the lake. He didn't trust it. Who was...? Ah. His mate.

Voldemort's eyes scanned the lake shore, coming to rest on a lone tree that stood near the water.

Looking closely, he discerned a figure sitting under the tree.

His heart beat faster and he felt sudden excitement at seeing the figure, before he quelled it, annoyed at his lack of control.

He couldn't quell the rightness he felt, though, nor could he deny that upon seeing the figure, everything had fallen into place and for the first time in years, his life had made sense.

Staying between the trees and out of sight, Voldemort walked along the edge of the forest, towards the lake and the lone tree.

He stopped when he was as near as he could be without leaving the forest. He was glad for the last rays of sunlight, but still, he couldn't discern who was sitting under the tree.

But the happiness he felt welling up in him made him very sure of then fact that it was indeed his mate sitting a mere hundred meters from him.

Sudden longing hit him so hard that he took an involuntary step forward. Out of the shelter of the trees.

He wanted to go to his mate and just take him into his arms. Hold him. Protect him.

Tender feelings made him take another step and another towards the unsuspecting figure.

His mate looked so lost, all alone...

Another step.

Suddenly, the dark figure under the tree looked up.

888

Slowly, his feelings began to scare him. Harry was nearing bliss, but as much as he tried to find a reason for his happiness, he couldn't. He felt disconnected from his feelings.

A building giddiness drove his thoughts away. Harry couldn't keep the wild smile from his face as he gazed over the lake. He felt safe and protected.

Intense longing flooded him, seeming to come out of nowhere.

No. Nowhere wasn't right. This longing... it came from somewhere near the forest...

Harry looked up.

Even before he could process what he saw, a realization hit him.

Harry gasped, his heart starting to beat madly.

Only about a hundred meters from him, a tall, dark figure stood, frozen. The man in the long robes was staring at him.

Harry stared back. He didn't know how he knew it was a man, but he was sure of it. Something inside of Harry reached out to the man and suddenly, everything in life seemed to make sense, all questions were answered and all doubts erased. An intense feeling of rightness and calm suffused him.

He remembered how Remus had described the feeling of finally finding one's mate. That everything just fell into place.

Everything had just fallen into place. This was his mate.

Squinting, Harry tried to discern who it was. He couldn't.

He sat under the tree, frozen, and inwardly cursed the sun and twilight especially.

888

Voldemort cursed as his mate looked up and stared at him- he hadn't planned on showing himself. He had merely wanted to find out who his mate was...

And now he stood, frozen, gazing at his mate... _his_ mate.

Tenderness made him smile, but he realized suddenly, that his feet were about to move towards his mate of their own accord _again_.

He stopped himself. He wanted to turn around and leave again, but he wanted to know who his mate was... He needed to know so desperately.

From the distance he couldn't see who it was. It was too dark. He contemplated walking towards his mate again, but fear of being recognized made him stay where he was.

So they just stared at each other.

Voldemort reveled in the peace and happiness he was feeling. Later on, he would hate himself for it, but now, in the presence of his mate, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt.

Movement farther away caught his eye and he tore his eyes from the figure under the tree.

Someone had exited Hogwarts and was now walking quickly towards the tree his mate was sitting under. Voldemort frowned in annoyance, but took a step back when the figure crested a hill, its robes momentarily illuminated by one last sun ray. They were violet.

Dumbledore.

The name resonated in his mind, echoing - rousing fears he had buried not too long ago.

With another glance at his mate, who hadn't noticed Dumbledore approaching, Voldemort turned abruptly and walked swiftly back into the Forbidden Forest.

He would find out who his mate was on another day.

And as he put more and more distance between himself and his mate, he felt the ache that had left him when he had seen his mate, return, growing stronger and stronger. Urging him to go back.

But Voldemort reached the edge of the apparition wards and with a quiet crack, he was gone.

888

Harry saw his mate turn around and walk away.

The loss of his gaze broke the spell on Harry and he jumped up. He wanted to call after him, to ask him to stay, to come nearer and tell Harry who he was, but his throat constricted as he felt the presence leave.

Instead of running after his mate, Harry sat back down weakly. His hands were trembling and his legs were, too- but Harry was sure he had never felt this happy before.

He had found his mate.

Now, he merely needed to find out who he had seen. And why he had turned around and left.

Lost in thought, Harry didn't hear Dumbledore approach.

-888-

Wow. Now they've met. Not really, but... it's a meeting nonetheless. What do you say?

Review if you feel like it! )

Taranis


	9. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: As always. I don't own anything (just the plot), everything belongs to J. K. Rowling and to Warner Bros. ... and so on. I'm merely having fun with her world!

A/N: Finally, finally, the next chapter! Spring break has started today and I'll be able to write much more in the holidays!

Thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed! You are the reason I continue writing! )

This chapter is dedicated to my dearest friend Morganzola, for a _change_ (haha- note the irony )), but it is also dedicated to all readers enjoying this story! I love you all!

Now, read on and enjoy!

-888-

Harry sat under the tree, his body frozen. But his mind wasn't. In fact, his thoughts were positively lively, growing and receding, combining and seperating.

He had just met his mate. His mate. _His_ mate. It was a man.

Harry hadn't been able to move. Neither had he been able to speak.

But the man, hadn't, either. Both had frozen, overwhelmed by the realizations and feelings their accidental meeting aroused.

And now, even after the man's sudden disappearance, Harry sat, unable to move and not particularly interested in doing so.

His blood had sung when his mate had stepped towards him, but now, it was stilling and suddenly, the feeling disappeared, leaving no trace of the comforting happiness in him.

The spell on Harry lifted and he blinked slowly.

The sun had finally sunk low enough and the grounds of Hogwarts were dark. Harry could see very well now. Frustrated, he wished his mate had appeared a few minutes later. He wished he knew who he was... and why he had left. Why had he? Had his mate recognized Harry and turned on his heel? Was he somehow disgusting?

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it and- heard rustling near him. It sounded like footsteps.

His head whipped around, immediately fixing on the figure that had made the noise.

For a second, he felt bitter disappointment at noticing it wasn't his mate who had returned.

It was just Dumbledore.

Harry frowned, why hadn't he been able to hear the wizard approaching? Maybe he had been too distracted. He snorted silently.

'Harry.'

Harry got up, coming to stand beside the headmaster and forced himself to smile at him.

Dumbledore scrutinized his face and then, smiled, too, seeming to be satisfied with what he saw.

'I was quite concerned when you left the hall so suddenly, my boy. And without your snake, too.'

'It's okay. I had one of my... um... panic attacks, I guess. I was feeling really restless and then... it got worse. I'm sorry if you worried. I just- I couldn't have stayed in there. And now-'

Harry had been about to tell Dumbledore about his mate, but suddenly, seeing the curious look on the man's face, he realized he really didn't want to tell him. It felt wrong and like he was divulging a secret that was between himself and his mate.

It had been their moment. Only _theirs_.

And Harry wasn't keen on telling the headmaster about the feelings his mate had evoked in him. He felt himself blush, grateful for the darkness of the night hiding his red face from the headmaster.

Dumbledore made an encouraging noise.

'Well, now, I'm better - I think solitude helps.' Harry said, averting his eyes, fearing Dumbledore might see the lie in his eyes.

They walked next to each other, back to the castle.

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes rested on Harry. 'I see. I needn't have checked up on you.'

Harry latched onto that. 'Yes, those spells always pass, they're normal- don't worry.' He hoped the headmaster wouldn't follow him the next time... maybe he'd meet his mate again?

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought, but then, he spoke, quietly.

'And... you still want to deny that you have a mate?' Friendly concern bled into his voice.

Harry blinked. Ah yes. He had told Dumbledore he would never try to find his mate...

But now... after meeting his mate and having felt his presence... he couldn't understand his earlier decision.

His mate had seemed to be powerful and an adult. He would be able to look after himself.

Of course... Voldemort presented a threat not to be taken lightly, but wasn't a dominant vampire strong enough to protect himself? Harry decided he must be.

Dumbledore cleared his throat politely as they walked through the Entrance Hall and started to climb the stairs.

Harry cursed his mind for carrying him away. 'Um... sorry, what was your question?'

Dumbledore gave a quiet laugh and then grew serious again. 'I asked wheter you were still of the opinion it would be better for you and your mate to not... know each other.'

Harry forced himself to sound resigned as he looked away. 'I won't look for my mate. It's too dangerous.'

A warm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Harry glanced up into the wrinkled face of the headmaster as he spoke. 'If you ever change your opinion, Harry... tell me, will you?'

Harry nodded numbly. Dumbledore smiled a little sadly and left Harry standing in the first floor corridor.

After staring out the window for a few moments, Harry walked up to Gryffindor Tower.

He felt slightly guilty for lying to Dumbledore. But after having been in his mates presence, he couldn't even think about not meeting him again.

He didn't know when he would see him again or how he would go about it, but he knew with certainty that he _needed _to see him. Soon. The restlessness was already gnawing at him.

He would find a way, he was sure.

Determinedly, he climbed through the portrait hole, bracing himself for the questions his friends would surely ask him.

888

Extremely exhausted, Harry climbed the stairs to the boys dormitory, Ron at his side.

Ron was chatting away happily, but Harry didn't feel happy at all. Once again, he had had to lie to his friends about his earlier odd behaviour. And it was taking a toll on him. He had always been able to confide in them... but now...

'...right, Harry?'

Startled, Harry only nodded and said 'Yeah.', hoping that was what Ron wanted to hear.

Obviously it was, because Ron turned and went into the adjoining bathroom.

Harry walked over to his bed and threw himself onto the soft covers. He felt extremely drained. Why was he feeling so weak? His head hurt a little and especially his stomach was throbbing painfully.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to forget about it. Thoughts chased through his head, making his slight headache worse. He groaned silently.

He heard Ron in the bathroom and then, the door to the dorm opening and closing.

All Harry wanted to do was drift off and sleep, but something kept him awake.

At first, he wasn't sure what it was, but then, a wonderful scent wafted over to him. It smelled so amazing, that he inhaled deeply. He didn't know what it was, just that it smelled good and appetizing. Very appetizing.

Harry's stomach gave a particularly strong throb. Oh.

He was hungry, Harry realized.

Fuzzily, he remembered that, yes, he hadn't eaten dinner... yeah, that must be the reason... dinner.

But he never ate dinner, anyway, did he?

Harry shook his head slightly, keeping his eyes closed. He was thinking bullshit. He smiled weakly.

But one thing was for sure: there was something wonderful-smelling in the dorm. Something edible.

For a moment, Harry wondered who had brought something from the kitchens, but his hunger began to cloud his mind, making everything seem so unimportant.

His eyes flickered open in the dark room, immediately coming to rest on the source of the wonderful smell.

Neville.

Harry's mouth watered. His eyes felt different as they fixed on the vein that was pulsing on the boy's neck. So tantalizing... so full of life... of _blood_...

He was up in a flash.

Neville would never see him coming.

Harry crossed the dormitory in a few fast, gliding strides, not even noticing the speed he was moving at, and stopped a second before he reached Neville.

In the low, flickering light of the lone torch hanging on the wall, Neville saw him.

And let out a startled squeak.

Harry felt his pupils dilating at seeing the momentary fear in his prey's eyes.

He took a deliberatly slow step closer.

Neville appeared to calm down again.

'Hey, Harry! Didn't see you coming!', he said, laughing.

Harry blinked.

He was thoroughly confused. His prey, his food, was talking? Huh? To him?

He shook his head, trying to understand.

'Harry? Harry? Are you all right? You seem a bit out of it...' Neville was looking at him curiously.

Harry. Harry.

His name echoed in Harry's mind, calling forth something that had vanished. Harry. His name.

Harry blinked again.

Why was Neville standing in front of him? Why-

Oh gods. He took a step back, slowly feeling his eyes return to normal. He took another step back, and another. Oh Merlin. He had nearly attacked Neville!

Neville was following him. He still looked very concerned.

'Harry, what's up with you? What did you want?'

Harry stopped, frantically trying to come up with a reason for wanting to 'speak' to Neville. Merlin, what if he had seen his eyes... And still, some part of him sang bloodbloodbloodblood, but he tried to concentrate...

He latched onto the first idea that flashed through his mind.

'Um... you know, we have Herbology tomorrow and I haven't done the essay yet- haven't had the time. So, um... I was going to ask you if I could look at yours for... inspiration!' Harry finished, hoping Neville would buy it. What if he had seen his eyes change and realized what he was? Merlin, what if he-

Neville bought it.

'Sure. Wait...' He walked over to his trunk, lifted the lid and rummaged through it until he unearthed a scroll.

He scampered over to Harry again and held it out. 'Here you go!'

Harry forced a smile and accepted the essay, trying very hard not to look at Neville's neck too closely.

'Thanks.'

He tried not to break into a run as he walked towards his bed. Sitting down, he quickly drew the drapes around it.

He closed his eyes tightly, listening to Neville moving around the room until he, too, went into the bathroom.

As soon as Harry heard the door close, he was up and in front of his trunk. With shaking hands, he withdrew a vial, filled with the red liquid he yearned for.

A quick glance around and he was on his bed again, curtains drawn.

His fingers trembled impatiently as he tried to remove the stopper, until he grew annoyed and simply yanked it out with all his strength.

The stopper flew through the air and landed on Harry's cover with a quiet thud.

Harry paid it no mind as he swallowed the contents of the vial greedily.

Warmth suffused his stomach, making the pain disappear immediately. His mind started to return to clarity, allowing him to think straight again.

888

Lord Voldemort couldn't concentrate. His arms hurt and itched. Pure will power kept him from scratching his sensitive skin.

He couldn't concentrate. And he didn't particularly want to.

The book in front of him and the letters within didn't make any sense to him, but that fact didn't bother him at all, as he wasn't aware of it.

His mind swam with thoughts and images. And he wasn't inclined to forget those images.

He remembered the twilight, the dark outline of the lone tree and- most important of all, he remembered the figure under it.

A slow smile threatened to come to his face, but he forced his face back into indifference. He couldn't allow himself any weaknesses. Not even when he was alone. He couldn't let down his guard.

Frustrated, he rested his head in his hands, closing his eyes briefly. They, just like every part of his body, hurt.

It was deeply unsettling to feel his body reacting to something but being unable to tell what was happening. He was hesitant to take any potions as he had no idea what was causing his current afflictions. And that fact frustrated him immensely.

The skin on his head itched uncomfortably.

He raised his long-fingered hand, hesitated, and then, massaged the sensitive skin. The skin on his head felt strange... there was something on his scalp...

His second hand joined the first to investigate.

A quiet knock on the door made him retract his hands, wave one to open the door and glare at the intruder.

It was Bellatrix.

She walked over to him, knelt at his feet, grabbing the hem of his robes and pressing it to her mouth eagerly.

Faintly disgusted, Voldemort tugged at his robes sharply, making Bellatrix release her hold on them. She looked up, starting to say something, when her already adoring expression grew even more so.

'My Lord! What a pleasant surprise!' She stood without his permission, her dark eyes glittering with madness, extending a thin hand with painted black nails to touch his head.

He recoiled and whipped out his wand. How _dare_ she?

_'Crucio!_'

She screamed, but he got the impression that it wasn't form pain. Disgusted, he let the curse fade into nothing.

'Bella, you are not to touch me.' He nearly whispered.

She took a step back, her eyes wide with sudden fear, but adoration still shining through.

She is insane, Voldemort thought for a fleeting second, but then, he was again distracted by her.

'I am so sorry, my Lord! So sorry...' She had fallen to her knees, crawling over to him, trying to bury her head in his robes again.

He took a step back to evade her. A lazy flick of his wand and she froze where she was. Only her eyes were moving, following his every movement.

'You will tell me what you meant by 'pleasant surprise'. Immediately.' Voldemort said coldly, enunciating the word 'pleasant' sarcastically. A flick of his wand unfroze Bella, making her crumble to the ground.

She got to her feet quite quickly.

Voldemort felt a little disturbed at seeing she didn't seem the least bit ruffled. He ignored his sudden desire to curse her again in favour of listening to what she had to say for herself.

Her eyes fixed on his scalp again. 'My Lord, I was merely surprised that you had begun taking hair-growth potions...'

Hair-growth...? He hadn't...

'What?' He asked her sharply, forgetting himself for a second.

'I... I'm sorry, my Lord, if I was wrong! There is hair growing on your head and so I assumed...'

What was that woman talking about? He conjured a mirror, examining his scalp. It was true. Small tufts of black hair had appeared, still extremely short. That explained the itch on his head.

But why...?

'Leave', he commanded.

'But, Master, you wanted to-'

'Leave, I said.', he hissed dangerously. 'Your report can wait.'

Meekly, she turned around and left the room quickly.

888

As soon as the heavy door fell shut, his hands were on his head, touching his new hair. How had that happened? He ran his long fingers through it, reveling in the unfamiliar, but welcome feeling.

Why was his hair growing again? It had refused to grow since Wormtail had resurrected him and not even Severus' potions had been of any help. He had given up after a few months of trying, deciding the lack of hair was worth the fear it inspired in both his followers and his enemies.

Why wasn't he angry, he wondered. A small voice seemed to answer from deep within him. Having hair would make his mate like him even more... Yes, his mate would like him...

He smiled suddenly, imagining his mate running his fingers through his hair, just like this... it tickled a little, but in a good way.

He was very glad to have hair again... and his mate would like it, too... they both liked it... that was good...

Something inside him ached as he thought about his mate and suddenly, he felt like getting up and apparating to Hogwarts. He would take down the wards, if necessary, he would destroy the gates, everything standing in his way toward his mate... he would take his mate into his arms and-

An urgent knock, made him become aware of his current thoughts and he banned those quickly. What a weakness, he thought disgustedly, glad for the interruption.

He waved his hand, allowing Lucius Malfoy to enter the room.

He noticed with interest that the aristocrat was trying to hold up a cold mask, but was actually hiding that he was terribly upset.

He frowned. Lucius was _never_ upset.

'Lucius,', he started after the man had knelt and stood up again. '- what happened?'

Usually, he wasn't as frank, but tonight, he felt, he needed to be as straightforward as possible. Lucius was his most trusted follower, after all.

Lucius appeared to search for words. Very odd indeed.

'My lord, Draco... my son, he...'

'Yes? Did you tell him when he is to be marked?'

'Yes. No.'

'Lucius...', Voldemort said quietly, but threateningly. He wasn't a very patient man.

'I wrote Draco about his upcoming marking and he... he refused, my lord.' The last bit was rushed, as it seemed to be difficult to say for Lucius.

Surprised, but not showing any signs of it, Voldemort tilted his head to the side. Malfoy Junior didn't want to be marked... interesting. His father didn't seem to have anything to do with that decision as he seemed to become more and more anxious as Voldemort's silence grew longer and longer.

'What did you do about it?', he finally settled on asking. He was careful not to let any emotions bleed into his voice.

Lucius shuddered lightly. 'I wanted to got to Hogwarts and take him to you this morning.'

Voldemort looked around exaggeratedly. 'I don't seem to see him. So where is he?' He ended the question on a dangerous note. Every single Death Eater was important and if that Malfoy kid...

'I.. was coming to that.. Draco wasn't there. He has left. I asked the teachers and Dumbledore, but they had no idea.' The blonde sneered.

'He ran...'

'I believe so, my lord.'

'Where to?', Voldemort asked.

Lucius fidgeted with his hands, looked at them as he did it and stopped immediately as he realized what he was doing.

'I don't know. He is gone. Or- '

Voldemort clenched his hand around his wand. 'Or Dumbledore is hiding him.'

-888-

Next chapter will have more Harry/Voldemort. A meeting, maybe... lalala I'm not telling.

Well, what do you think? Voldi has new hair!

Review if you like. I'd like that. )

Taranis Theia


	10. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters, places or um... anyway, J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe and I'm merely borrowing her characters, places and yeah... everything else. ;)

A/N: I can't believe it! Another chapter, so soon! Well, I have to admit that the story has gripped me. And I'm not going to try to escape. Right after posting chapter eight I HAD to sit down and start writing this one... I hope you'll have as much fun reading this, as I had writing it!

Your reviews encouraged me a lot, as always. Thank you!

IDOS: Well, I can definitely tell you that Voldemort's hair isn't only growing on his head... xD

Now... read on and enjoy!

Chapter Nine

-888-

At breakfast the next morning, Harry felt like himself once again. After having drunk blood the night before and then dreaming about his mate, the restlessness had vanished for the most part.

He was currently chatting amiably with Ginny, who seemed very happy that he was back to his old self. And even though Harry appeared to take part in their conversation about Quidditch enthusiastically, in his mind, he wasn't even thinking about the topic they were discussing.

In fact, his thoughts were very far from Quidditch. They revolved around something that brought him as much joy as Quidditch- maybe even more. Harry was thinking about his mate.

He relived the joy of their meeting the day before, the way everything had felt so right... so real.

And he remembered that he had dreamed about his mate in the night. The dream had been sketchy and blurred and he didn't remember a face. But what he did remember made the blood in his veins sing.

A tall figure, male, clad in long black robes. Longing. Strong arms around him. Belonging. A warm pressing of lips against his hair. Acceptance.

Harry frowned. His dream had ended just as he had been about to reach up to his mate's face, draw it down towards him and-

'We should really try that move, don't you think?', Ginny asked him, an adventurous glint in here eyes.

'Yeah, that's a great idea.', he answered, absently, staring blankly at the Slytherin table and noticing that Malfoy was missing.

'Harry?', she looked at him, questioningly.

Harry tried to distract her. 'Um, sorry. I... oh, look, Malfoy's not at his table. Do you think he's ill?'

She lifted an eyebrow at him, showing him that she had looked straight through his distraction strategy. Nonetheless, her head turned towards the Slytherin table and scanned the students sitting at it.

'You are right.', she said. 'I hope his owl scratched his eyes out.', Ginny added, turning back to her food.

When they had finished eating, Harry noticed that McGonagall was making her way towards the Gryffindor table. Towards them.

Their head of house arrived, wished them a good morning and then let her eyes rest on Ginny.

'Miss Weasley. The headmaster wishes to see you after breakfast in his office. It is important. The password is 'ice mice'.', she smiled a strained smile and walked away, ignoring the questions they were trying to ask her.

'That's strange. Why does he want to talk to you? And how is it important?', Ron asked, sounding faintly jealous.

'Dunno.' She answered, getting to her feet. She shrugged. 'I guess with 'after breakfast' she meant now. I should be going.'

Harry frowned after her.

'You're gonna tell us everything later, right?', Ron called after her, but she just ignored him.

888

Harry sat next to Hermione in charms. She seemed strangely distracted and had difficulties with focusing on the protective enchantment they were supposed to be practising.

The fragile porcelain vase in front of them was still unprotected.

Hermione tried again, but the air around the vase merely shimmered for a moment before returning to its usual appearance.

Frustrated, she laid her wand on the table and rested her head in her hands.

Curious and concerned, Harry leaned over, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

'Hey... what's eating you? You're usually so good at charms.'

She lifted her head and smiled faintly at him. 'I'm just... worried.'

'What about? Can I help?', Harry asked her, not used to seeing her like this.

'It's nothing, really. I... forget it.', Harry could have sworn that a note of anger had entered her voice. Thoroughly confused, he tried to convince himself that he must have misheard.

'Should I try the charm?', he asked her carefully.

She swallowed and nodded.

Harry picked his wand up, reveling in the rush of warmth and power it called forth.

Flitwick appeared next to their table. He stood on his tiptoes, looking at their unprotected vase.

'Miss Granger...?', he asked, a little disappointed.

She turned away.

'Um... Professor. I was about to try, actually.', Harry said to distract their teacher.

'Oh, very good! Remember the wand movements, especially the flick at the end!', he cried, enthusiastic, seeming to forget about Hermione's odd behaviour.

Harry forced a smile.

'And don't forget to _actively_ pour the power _into_ the charm.'

'Yeah, I'll try to do that.'

Harry lifted his wand, levelled it on the porcelain vase and began to draw the intricate pattern the charm needed into the air. He finished with the rune of protection and flicked his wand, while speaking the charm.

_Res contego!_

Immediately, he grew aware of something akin to a floodgate being opened in him, allowing his magic to flow out of him, through his wand, into the air around the vase.

The air around it began to shimmer, just like it had done with Hermione, but it didn't stop there. The air flickered, ripples of magic chasing over the surface of the shield he was creating.

And still, his magic flowed out of him, a joyous river of power. Harry could have shouted delightedly. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling so elated and free, but it didn't matter to him at that moment.

'Mr. Potter!'

Harry realized that Flitwick was trying to say something. With another flick of his wand and some disappointment, Harry cut off the flow of magic, finishing the charm.

It felt like being dumped into cold water. Reality came rushing back.

'Mr. Potter...' Flitwick couldn't seem to decide wheter to give into his disconcertment or to praise Harry for the accomplishment.

He settled on the latter. 'Mr. Potter, that was an outstanding performance. I always knew you inherited your mother's talent for charms... such a good girl, she was...', he trailed off, undoubtely lost in memory.

Harry looked down, uncomfortable and that's why he didn't notice the whole class staring at him in something akin to awe.

888

Days passed. Harry was doing better and better in classes. His professors had talked to him, asking what had brought about the change. Harry didn't know, himself, and had told the teachers he had been studying more. They approved.

His friends, however, knew he wan't studying any more frequently. Especially Ron was suspicious.

Hermione was still behaving oddly, and it wasn't getting better. Maybe it was getting worse.

She was away often, not to be found. Harry even went as far as looking for her in the Room of Requirement, but she wasn't there.

Ron seemed to notice, too. Harry believed that Ron still had a thing for Hermione. The way he kept on fretting about her absence and how he was convinced she was meeting a secret lover was telling. Harry pitied him. He knew that Hermione wasn't interested. That much was obvious.

Monday was finally upon them. Harry had, as strange as it sounded, missed classes. On the weekend he had had to evade Ron's attempts to question him about his sudden studious streak. And, on top of that, he had begun feeling restless again.

He knew why. And he wanted to change it. But he couldn't.

Harry had gone outside on Saturday and Sunday, to sit under the tree where he had first seen his mate. The feeling hadn't repeated itself, though. He had sat there for hours, staring at the lake and the forest. But no tall figure with long black robes had appeared out of the shadows.

Disappointed, Harry had gone back into the castle, feeling uneasier every time he thought about his mate.

He had even walked through Hogwarts for hours, hoping to feel that rightness again, to find his mate.

But it had been in vain. He had felt no pull, no sudden accelerating of his heartbeat.

He had finally and sadly concluded that his mate wasn't at Hogwarts.

That made him wonder why his mate had walked out of the forest in the first place. Did he live in the forest? No, that didn't make any sense.

'Hey, mate, have you seen Ginny? I have hardly seen her last week.' Ron asked him, making him wince at the word 'mate'.

'Um... No, I haven't seen her. Sorry. But now that you say it- it _is_ rather strange she's away all the time...'

Ron nodded, pensive. 'Yeah, and Hermione, too.'

'Why did you want to talk to Ginny?' Harry attempted to steer the conversation away from Hermione. He somehow felt he had to protect her secret. Whatever it was she was hiding.

In that moment, the portrait hole opened, revealing Ginny. She made her way through the common room, not looking left or right. She appeared to be absolutely enraged.

Ron took a step forward. Harry knew that that wasn't a smart move on his part.

He was right. Ginny stopped only for a second to glare at her brother scathingly, daring him to talk to her. He didn't dare.

With a toss of her head that, oddly enough, reminded Harry of a wild horse, she walked off, up the stairs into the girl's dormitory.

'What's _wrong_ with her?', Ron moaned. 'Really, mate, women are _so _strange.'

888

Voldemort was pacing his quarters, restless and desperate. His hands were reaching up to tangle in his black hair. He closed his eyes, never ceasing his pacing.

Damn, damn, damn, he wanted to know. He needed to know.

His hands sank to his sides, trembling, itching for his wand. He wanted to see his mate. He needed to know who he was.

And the fulfillment of his wish was a mere apparition away...

But Voldemort controlled himself.

The first time he had apparated to Hogwarts had been foolish enough. He had stepped onto the grounds of the castle without thinking, merely following the silent call of his mate. And he had been lucky. He had seen Dumbledore approaching before the old coot had noticed him.

He twirled his wand in his fingers, watching the light of the torches reflect off of its surface. How he longed to give in to the pull, to apparate-

_Crack!_

Voldemort stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

And hated himself. So little self-control...

But that didn't keep him from walking into the woods determinedly, never looking back. Already, he was feeling more at ease. His mate was near.

888

Harry was in Greenhouse Three when he felt it.

From one moment to the other, the world seemed to shift around him. In a positive way.

He suddenly felt his restlessness vanish. It was replaced by a sudden longing and the unquestionable knowledge that his mate was near.

Giddily, he harvested the last bit of Bubotuber pus, his mind a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

With the last shred of self control he possessed, he walked up to Madam Sprout, forcing his facial muscles (which were trying their best to make him smile brilliantly) into making him look as if he were in pain.

His herbology professor looked up at him when he arrived in front of her.

Seeming to notice his pained expression, she asked concernedly, 'Is something wrong with you, Mr. Potter?'

'I'm sorry, Professor. I've got a headache. Do you think I could go and get a pain-relief potion from Madam Pomfrey?', he asked politely, only barely containing the wild grin that threatened to split his face into two.

Ron frowned at him from their work table.

'Of course, Mr. Potter, do take your time!', she answered good-naturedly, concern etched into her face.

Thanking her and silently thanking Merlin for making his mate appear while he was in the class of the Hufflepuff head of house, he exited the greenhouse.

He closed his eyes for a second, smelling the wind, searching for the scent of his mate. It reached him immediately. The wind came from the direction of the forest, bringing with it a scent that couldn't be more wonderful. It smelled of his mate.

It smelled of darkness and power. Reassuring power.

Inhaling deeply, Harry turned towards the forest and began the long walk from the greenhouses toward his mate.

888

Voldemort walked through the Forbidden Forest. He had cast an Disillusionment Charm on himself, careful not to make the mistake of going onto Hogwarts' grounds visible for everyone, again.

It was difficult to walk, though, as he couldn't even see himself- his Disillusionment Charm was just too powerful. He walked carefully, because he kept on nearly tripping over roots and other things as he made his way towards the castle and his mate.

He wondered what he would do once he had found his mate. Would he take him with him? Abduct him? He wouldn't need to, he thought, surely his mate would come willingly...

The edge of the forest was slowly becoming visible to him and he walked a little faster, feeling the overwhelming emotions the proximity of his mate evoked, strengthen and growing stronger with every step he took. He felt his invisible robes swish around him, brushing the sunlit forest floor, saw them stirring up glittering dust.

And from the shade of the trees, he finally stepped out into the brilliant sunlight.

He had no shadow and the wind seemed to blow right through him.

He looked around for a moment, standing still. The wind was in his back but even though it blew in direction of Hogwarts, he could smell a faint trace of a wonderful scent on it.

Light, innocence, power.

His mate.

He took a few more fast, gliding steps and then stopped short. In the distance, he discerned a person. The grounds were deserted save for the figure drawing nearer and nearer, and Voldemort deduced that classes must be in session.

But that thought was unimportant and vanished completely as, for a second or two, the wind turned.

And with it, the scent of his mate filled his nose.

Invisible eyes widened as Voldemort connected the scent with the approaching figure. His mate. He took a step forward and another. He evaluated the distance between himself and his mate and deemed it too much. He broke into a run, gliding, silent steps carrying him towards his mate, his, his, _his_.

Oh Merlin, the ache was becoming so strong... it physically hurt not to have his mate in his arms, kissing him, touching him, making him his.

He noticed that the distance between them was getting smaller and smaller until he could make out the exact shape of his mate... certainly not too small, not as tall as himself, though. Slim... Clad in Hogwarts student robes. Black hair, very untidy black hair.

He stopped. His mate was drawing nearer, seeming to feel his proximity, but not being able to see him.

Voldemort, of course, could feel it, too. Deep longing, happiness, rightness.

But his mind was telling him that something was wrong. Very wrong.

What was it?

His mate was only a hundred meters away now. Voldemort's vampire self was joyous, making it near impossible for him to think clearly... what was wrong? Was it the delicate face? The red border of the black robes?

Fifty meters.

The red emblem with the lion on his mate's chest? No...

His mind was trying to regain control of his thoughts, of his actions... fighting...

Twenty-five meters.

His mate seemed so familiar... but his mind refused to let Voldemort access his memories... who was this?

Ten meters.

Was it the face? No... but... maybe it was the scar on his mate's forehead... shaped like a lightning bolt...

The scar... scar... such a strange shape...

And with a sudden jerk, Voldemort had won. His vampire self ducked down, while his own mind returned to where it should be. He looked at his mate.

And took a step back, stumbled, took another, and another.

His mind whispering _no, no, no, this cannot be true_, as he watched Harry Potter, look for him desperately. His green eyes were wide, his mouth open a fraction.

Shaking his head in helpless denial, he backed away even farther, never taking his eyes off of his mate. It hurt to bring distance between them. All he wished for was to sink into those arms, hold Potter and be held.

But Voldemort couldn't forget who this was... Harry Potter. Someone he had been trying to kill for such a long time... Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn him. Damn the world. Damn his vampire self. Damn Potter for being a vampire. Why couldn't his mate have been someone else... why, oh, why?

He looked at Potter one last time, longing to touch and to kill him simultaneously. His fingers itched for his wand- to remove the disillusionment charm or to use Avada Kedavra, he didn't know.

Thoroughly confused and desperate, he turned away, striding towards the forest again.

'I'm here! Where are you going? Please, where are you?'

Voldemort heard the hated voice- but, oh, how lovely it sounded -call after him. It sounded hurt.

Voldemort smirked, feeling guilty at the same the time. He merely needed to- no. He would leave. He wouldn't take... Potter.

'You are my mate! Why are you leaving? Don't go!' He sounded desperate.

Voldemort stopped for a moment, glancing back.

Wide green eyes were filling with tears, scanning the vicinity. 'Please...', his mate whispered.

He nearly gave in. That one word could sound so heart-broken and lonely... so desperate.

But he closed his eyes and his mind and turned away again, walking away slowly, but steadily. He felt the pull towards his distraught mate, urging him to turn back around and comfort him.

He shook his head again, trying to clear it. It didn't help. Instead, he broke into a run, desperately trying to escape his conflicting feelings.

As soon as he passed through Hogwarts' wards, he apparated away, leaving Harry behind and feeling his mind tear itself apart.

-888-

Damn, poor Harry. But Voldemort knows, now...

Next chapter is in the works! We'll see... maybe Harry will find out about his mate...

Review if you feel like it!

Taranis Theia


	11. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Voldemort or anyone or anything from the Harry Potter universe. I wish I did, but, alas, I don't. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling!

A/N: Hello again! I've got a nice chapter for you today! Grins

Thank you all a lot for your reviews and the encouraging things you wrote. This chapter is for KCameh / Carmen. Usually I dedicate my chapters to Morganzola but I think she won't be too mad if she doesn't get this one... At least I hope so. So, this is for you, Carmen, as thanks for an absolutely great and encouraging review, which made me sit down and write for four hours straight. 

Read on and enjoy!

Chapter 10

-888-

Lord Voldemort was sitting in his high-backed chair, a concernedly hissing Nagini at his feet. 

He didn't answer. He couldn't.

Only a moment ago, he had apparated away. Away from Hogwarts. Away from his mate. Away.

His insides were churning, his vampire self kicking and screaming in his mind and his own thoughts, unbelieving and confused, were in a turmoil. And in the back of his mind, the name of his mate resounded unceasingly.

_Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter..._

All of this added up to an utter chaos of emotions he wasn't able to sort through.

The sound of a knock on the door echoed through the desolate room.

Voldemort didn't even lift his head. With a flick of his wrist and not a mere thought, he reinforced the wards on it, adding a silencing charm. 

The world had to wait.

_Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter..._

Why Harry Potter? Why? Potter was his enemy, his arch nemesis... and his mate. 

Potter was the bane of his life, but was he also the love of his life? 

He couldn't be. How could he be? Voldemort had always wanted to kill him, seeing nothing in him save a boy who dared to stand up to him. Stand up to him and succeed.

Old, fierce hatred welled up as he remembered his defeat at Potter's hands... At Potter's hands... Potter's hands... 

A picture came into the forefront of his mind, unbidden. 

Small hands holding a wand aloft, trembling, but steady in their aim nonetheless. Pointing at him. Green eyes glaring fiercely, protecively.

_Beautiful... _his mind whispered reverently.

Yes, he agreed, Potter was beautiful... 

Another picture entered his mind, a scene he had witnessed through Severus' mind...

Potter, smiling brilliantly, cheeks flushed, eyes shining brightly with hapiness...

Voldemort tried to imagine Potter looking at him like that. It was very difficult- would Potter ever look at him with anything but hatred and challenge in his eyes?

Catching himself, he frowned, displeased. It wasn't as if he _wanted_ Potter to look at him like that. Did he?

What did he want, then?

He was going in circles, he noticed absently, not caring in the least.

Well, he answered himself, he wanted power. And as few problems as possible. And Potter presented so many problems. Or did he? Of course he did. Potter was a living problem.

But the fact was, that he was stuck with him. Potter was his mate. And he would always be.

And, damn it all, Voldemort needed his powers. If he could only get Potter to agree to be his mate... to mate with him...

But Voldemort knew that, as much as Potter had seemed to need him earlier, he would control himself and reject him as soon as he found out who he was... and if that happened, Voldemort would never gain access to his powers...

He couldn't change the fact that he was Lord Voldemort. Nor that he had killed his mate's parents. He couldn't change the past.

Well... maybe he couldn't change the past- but he could certainly change the present.

Sitting up, he retrieved his wand from his sleeve, pointed it at himself and began to change his appearance.

He conjured a mirror, looked at himself and smiled, satisfied. 

Blonde hair, dark eyes and an even nose. He looked shorter, but not too short. His mate would like him, he was sure. 

With a flick of his wand, he was back to his old self. Or so he thought.

Something felt odd on his face. Heavy, unusual. Strange.

Hesitantly, he lifted his left hand to touch his face. It felt different. And immediately, he knew what had changed.

The nose had stayed. 

He flicked his wand again, annoyed at his own incompetence. 

The nose didn't disappear.

Why didn't it disappear? It was only a magically crafted part of him. It should have vanished as soon as he cancelled the charm... 

He murmured a stronger vanishing charm, but it didn't work.

Was something wrong with his magic?

He attempted a levitation charm on his snake. It worked. Nagini was lifted into the air, hissing curses.

Not caring in the least how she felt, he let her drop again, sighing, his mind working overdrive.

Of course, he could look for stronger charms or he could cast a concealing spell on his new nose... but. Well, maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe he should keep the nose. What was wrong with having a nose, anyway? Nothing, he answered himself.

With that decision out of the way, he made his way to the gathering room where Wormtail was waiting for him to press his dark mark and call the Death Eaters.

There was an important meeting tonight. Voldemort smiled without mirth.

888

He leaned back in his throne-like chair, strechting a little, before deciding to return to his rooms for the night. He had dismissed his Death Eaters earlier. The meeting had gone well. 

Voldemort stood slowly, wincing as he noticed that his left leg was asleep, due to his sitting on that hard stone chair for so long. He wished he had his full vampire abilities already. Never again would his body annoy him. 

He exited the gathering room, wandering through the dark and deserted corridors, towards his chambers.

Most Death Eaters had left, he knew, but some had stayed, either to sleep or to socialize with fellow Death Eaters. Voldemort didn't care. 

And he would have ignored the voices he heard coming from the right-hand corridor, if it hadn't been for a female voice mentioning his name.

Curious, and always disposed to eavesdrop on his followers, he took a silent step forward until he could hear the conversation between his two Death Eaters.

'...it is truly a shame.', the male Death Eater was saying, not sounding like he was sorry in the least.

'I agree', the woman continued, 'I never thought he was so... vain.' She giggled.

The man laughed quietly. 'Vain is a fitting description of him. He's becoming more and more vain, using hair-growth potions and, did you see him tonight? He's grown himself a nose... a nose! I think he's forgetting what he should be doing. He has forgotten his duty to the wizarding world. His duty to us.'

The woman shushed him. 'You never know when He's listening!', she whispered frantically.

The man scoffed. 'The Dark Lord? He was reclining in his throne last time I saw him. He's probably growing himself a new...' He trailed off, laughing, glancing down at himself, making it unmistakably clear which part of the body he thought his Lord was currently regrowing. 

'Care to repeat that, Travers?', Voldemort said softly, menacingly, stepping out of the shadows, making the woman emit a startled squeak.

The female Death Eater was looking at him with pleading eyes, falling to her knees. The man turned abruptly, eyes widening in horror at seeing the Dark Lord he had just been badmouthing.

'Selwynn. Travers.', Voldemort greeted his Death Eaters coldly.

Travers fell to his knees. 'My Lord, I didn't mean what I said! I-'

'Of course you meant what you said, Travers.', Voldmeort interrupted him smoothly, no emotion showing on his face.

Selwynn chanced a glance at him. 'My Lord, I wanted to stop him, I think he had no right to-'

'Silence. You don't want to anger me more by lying, do you?'

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head.

'Good.'

_Crucio!_

Travers began to scream, his body twisting violently on the floor. Voldemort could hear Selwynn starting to sob uncontrollably. 

He lifted the curse, only to use it again, a moment later, on the sobbing Death Eater. Her high-pitched scream pierced his sensitive ears, making him end the curse quickly.

Voldemort suppressed a yawn. He was tired. His rage had dwindeled, had drained out of him while he used the Cruciatus Curse.

Looking down on the two heaps of his shaking followers, he didn't care anymore.

Bored, he lifted his wand and pointed it at the annyoing woman first. 

_Avada Kedavra! _

Her sobbing was cut off as she died a quick death. 

Travers wasn't going to be let off that easily, though. Moving his yew wand in a slashing motion, Voldemort slit his throat, careful not to kill him and adding multiple cuts all over the man's body. 

Travers moaned weakly in pain.

Voldemort turned on his heel. The house elves would clean up the mess in the morning, when the man had bled dry.

Humming to himself, he continued on to his chambers.

888

A knock. 

'Enter.', he called, annoyed and excited simultaneously. Needless to say, the latter didn't show on his face.

His spy at the ministry entered, hurriedly walking towards him and falling to his knees, casting his head downwards.

'My lord.', he whispered reverently.

'Rise.', Voldemort commanded coldly. 'What news do you bring from the ministry?'

The man had risen but didn't seem to be brave enough to look the Dark Lord in his face. Instead, he stared at the black stone floor.

'I have the information you needed, my Lord.' The man chanced a glance upward, checking Voldemort's reaction. 

Voldemort had his red gaze fixed on his spy's face, his expression projecting indifference.

'Indeed...', he drawled. 

The man fidgeted.

'Tell me.', Voldemort continued, becoming impatient at the man's continuous silence.

'Of course, my lord.', the man rushed to say, obviously fearing punishment. 'My contacts tell me that Dumbledore will be at the ministry in a week's time. All day.'

Voldemort perked up as he heard the last bit. All day... Hogwarts would be free of its headmaster for a whole day... he hadn't dared to hope that much. 

A small smile stole its way onto his face, making his spy shake with fear. But the man had nothing to be afraid of. He was in his Lord's good graces, still. 

'Leave, your information was valuable.'

The man smiled a little uneasily and left as quickly as he dared to, without appearing to be disrespectful. 

Voldemort relaxed in his chair. The smile that had started as a small one, was growing until it turned into a grin, red eyes glittering. New powers were soon to be his... and Potter... Potter was just an additional perk.

888

A week later, a young man, blonde and handsome, clad in blue robes, apparated to the edge of Hogwarts' wards, making no sound. He didn't turn to look at the impressive castle to his left, entering the forest as if he had done the same many times.

And he had.

At first, his gait appeared a little unbalanced and difficult, as if he wasn't used to the shortness of his legs, but soon, he regained a flowing grace in his walking. 

The blonde lifted his yew wand, pointed it at himself and a moment later, he had disappeared completely. 

Soon, he reached the spot where he had met Potter the day before, but, as he had already feared, the young man was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, Voldemort resigned himself to entering the castle. 

888

Harry had been feeling restless for days. That was the reason why he didn't immediately feel the change in the air around him and in himself. 

Restlessness turned into eagerness.

Excitement was bubbling in his stomach, making it clench uncomfortably.

Placing a hand on it and ignoring his odd, growing happiness, he quickened his pace, intent on getting to the Room of Requirement before Ron caught up with him.

Outside, the clouds parted, making the sun filter through the high windows, making small patches of light appear on the stone floor.

A warm breeze tickled Harry's neck and he looked behind himself, wondering where the air draft was coming from. All windows were closed.

He shook his head, forgetting about the warm wind and climbed another set of staircases. 

Finally, Harry reached the right corridor. He walked the length of it, thinking intently about a room where he wouldn't be found.

Harry turned around, to walk past the invisible entrance to the Room of Requirement again.

Wind blew softly into his face, making him frown.

But the frown melted from his features as soon as he picked up the scent that the breeze carried. Darkness and power. Safety. His mate.

His eyes widening, he stopped in his tracks. 

And suddenly, he was also aware of the happiness permeating his senses, blanking out all his previous thoughts. He wondered how he had been able to miss the feeling of his mate's proximity. It was so obvious that _he _was near.

Harry smiled a wild smile. He could smell that his mate wasn't there yet, but he could feel him approaching. His vampire side was becoming more and more agitated by the moment and Harry could feel his vampire traits attempting to break through Dumbledore's glamour.

He didn't care, didn't think.

His mate was coming, coming, coming to see him. Now! Today! His mate was finally coming.

Harry forgot that Ron was following him, forgot that he had wanted to enter the Room of Requirement. 

The only thing he could think about was that his mate didn't hate him after all, didn't reject him. 

His mate wanted him. The thought flooded him with its warmth.

Suddenly the scent of his mate intensified. So delicious...

Harry took a step into its direction. 

And suddenly, the air on the other end of the corridor shimmered. The scent of his mate nearly overwhelmed Harry as, with joyful anticipation, he watched him appear.

Harry felt his pupils dilate.

His mate was blonde, taller than himself, older than him and- Harry caught his breath. So beautiful. So right... or not?

Harry wanted to run towards him, sink into his arms, tell him how much he had missed him, how much he needed to have him here with him. 

But something felt wrong. Something was wrong.

No! Nothing was wrong! Looking into those dark eyes and smelling his mate's unique scent, Harry felt that unmistakable rightness again. All thoughts about the wrongness were forgotten.

His mate was looking at him with fathomless dark eyes, while Harry stood, frozen, caught in the moment, his wishes and desires tearing at the last shreds of control he possessed.

Forgetting himself, he launched himself forward. 

His mate stayed still, watching him tear towards him with vampire speed with something akin to longing in his eyes.

Harry came to a halt a mere meter in front of his mate. This near, he smelled even better. He inhaled deeply. 

He looked up into those dark eyes again, searching for acceptance, for permission for what he was about to do, for what he couldn't help but do.

His mate was visibly controlling himself, smiling hesitantly. Dark eyes were boring into Harry's, begging for something Harry wouldn't deny him. Didn't want to deny him.

Crossing the remaining distance between them, Harry took a step forward and leaned towards his mate. 

His vampire side cried out in joy as, suddenly, the strong arms of his mate were around him, pulling him flush against him.

Ah, the scent, the touch, the-

Harry hesitated, feeling so lost, but oh, so protected and loved simultaneously.

Harry met his mate's eyes one last time, asking and answering unspoken questions, until neither he nor his mate could hold back anymore. 

Their lips crashed together in a desperate kiss.

It felt like pure heaven, as liquid passion and fire ran through his veins, melting away his doubts and making him loose his inhibitions. He clung to his mate, his arms wrapped around him, never wanting to let go, never wanting to let those lips leave his, those heavenly lips.

Harry pressed himself against his mate, allowing himself to be ravished and to ravish the other in turn. It felt so good... so right... This was the best that had ever happened to him.

And he smelled so good... Harry lost himself in sensation, in the scent, the feel and the sight of his mate.

And still, their lips stayed locked, their arms around each other, their bodies entwined. Perfect...

The scent... so heavenly, dark... powerful... rancid? What? What smell was that, covering his mate's?

Harry freed himself, stepping out of his mate's arms. He smelled the air. Someone with a rancid, disgusting smell, a note of sweat in it, was approaching. And he knew immediately who it was.

Ron.

Growling fiercely, loosing the last shred of his humanity, he grabbed his stunned mate's arm, tugged at it to make him follow, and proceeded to pace the corridor in quick strides.

They walked along the corridor a third time and suddenly, the door appeared. 

Harry hauled his mate into the room, throwing the door shut behind them.

Just as the door closed, Ronald Weasley rounded the corner.

888

Voldemort was stunned. His mind had long ago given up processing the feelings Harry evoked, had long ceased to try and clear his head. He had become, just like Harry, lost in sensation.

And now, he had been rudely awakened from his momentary abandon. Harry had literally hauled him into this room- a room he didn't even know existed.

He watched as his mate- his dear, beautiful, perfect, amazing-tasting mate- cursed someone, turning back around to him. 

'Ron...', he muttered in annoyance, 'Ron... you damn stalker...'

Voldemort took a step towards his mate. 

Harry looked up immediately, seeming to forget about that 'damn stalker'.

Instead, he locked eyes with Voldemort, softening upon seeing him. 'I never thought my mate would be so beautiful...', he whispered reverently. 

Something in him wanted to cry out and tell Harry that this glamour wasn't _him_, that he was someone else, that he was Lord Voldemort- that _he_ was the one Harry loved not the man he appeared to be.

He forced that part of him into silence. His plan couldn't fail now.

Harry walked up to him slowly, tilting his face down towards him.

'My beautiful, perfect mate...', Harry said softly, lovingly tracing Voldemort's lips with his fingers, the human in him lost in the tides of rightness and happiness, of passion and fire.

Green eyes were nearly black and Voldemort could see the points of Harry's fangs. 

He felt something stir inside him.

'My mate... my mate.'

Damn! He wasn't his mate! Voldemort was Harry's mate! He! Not that boring glamour! Harry shouldn't love the man he was pretending to be! He should love _him_! Him! Him, Lord Voldemort!

He didn't stop to contemplate the stupidity of being jealous of oneself or of what he was about to do. 

With mindless possessiveness, he took Harry's face into his hands, looked into his dark green eyes and said the truth.

'I'm not your mate.'

'What?', Harry shook his head to free it from his grip. 'But you are! Didn't you feel it? Don't you smell it?'

His eyes searched his face. Voldemort hated himself for hurting him. But he wouldn't back down now. He needed Harry to love _him. _

Voldemort whipped out his wand, pointed it at himself and felt the glamour vanish. All the while, he watched Harry, who was staring at him in disbelief. 

He watched as his mate looked at his changed appearance confusedly and immediately saw the realization dawn in his eyes. 

Green eyes hardened. 'Voldemort!', he spat.

Feeling drained, suddenly, Voldemort met his burning gaze sadly. He forced himself to say it, facing the hatred directed at him, knowing that Harry wouldn't ever want _him_.

'I am your mate, Harry.'

-888-

Aw...

Review if you like! 

Taranis


	12. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything belonging to the Harry Potter universe. Everything but the plot to this fic belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Hello again! I'm back and it's about time, too. I've been really busy with packing and stuff as I'm moving in a month and I'm SO excited! Anyway, I'm so grateful for all your great reviews, I loved every one of them. That's why ou get a nice, long chapter, full of revelations and... yeah. I don't want to give anything away. Just...

...Read on and enjoy!

Chapter 11

-888-

Feeling drained, suddenly, Voldemort met his burning gaze sadly. He forced himself to say it, facing the hatred directed at him, knowing that Harry wouldn't ever want _him_.

'I am your mate, Harry.'

888

Harry felt like stumbling back, but his feet didn't move an inch. Frozen, he stood, incapable of wrapping his mind around the fact that his mate, the person that smelled so good... whose presence felt so right... whose kisses had tasted so divine... was none other than Voldemort.

He could feel his eyes roaming over the Dark Lord's face, taking in all of it. He himself couldn't seem to utter a word, couldn't move, couldn't -

'Harry.', Voldemort said softly, taking a hesitant step towards him.

Why was he calling him Harry? Why wasn't he trying to kill him? Oh Merlin, why was he coming nearer? Why did he smell so good...?

Harry inhaled involuntarily, closing his eyes for a moment. No! He had to stay focused. He couldn't let Voldemort touch him!

Harry had no idea what would happen if his mate were to lay a finger on him, didn't even want to think about it- he merely knew that he may not be able to control himself.

'Stop. Don't come any nearer.', he whispered, knowing he sounded strained. He didn't care.

Voldemort did as he said, stopping in his advance.

'I'm not going to hurt you, Harry.', he promised and if Harry had lifted his eyes, he would have seen the pleading look in his mate's eyes. But as it was, Harry had his eyes downcast, refusing to meet the Dark Lord's.

He didn't know why he wouldn't look at his... mate. It was foolish, even. Voldemort was his worst enemy. Harry should be watching his every move- he was in danger after all.

But his emotions betrayed him. He didn't feel threatened. He should feel afraid, afraid for his life, but he wasn't. He felt comfortable- safe, even.

And what if he were to look into those dark eyes? What would happen?

Harry looked up involuntarily. But it wasn't dark eyes he met, but red eyes that burned into his emerald ones. He ignored the emotions swirling in their depths, in favour of abruptly looking away again. He shuddered. Red eyes. Red eyes, belonging to the Dark Lord. His enemy, his enemy...

Those eyes brought him back to his senses. Voldemort was standing right in front of him!

A hand touched his shoulder, concern showing in the gesture.

Harry looked up abruptly, seeing dark eyes fixed on him. He wondered, why and how their colour had changed, but it was still Voldemort standing in front of him, touching his shoulder-

He removed himself from his mate's touch- and if he were to be honest, it _did_ feel good-, moving towards the door with great speed.

At the door he turned once more, to see Voldemort still standing at the same spot as before, the hand he had lifted to comfort Harry, slowly sinking to rest at his side again.

Harry didn't look him in the face. 'Don't return. I... don't need a mate.'

He turned, leaving the room, leaving his mate within.

888

Voldemort was torn. Should he run after Harry, scaring him away, maybe even risk discovery- just to see him again, smell his scent, hear his voice?

Or should he leave, leave and never return- doing just what his mate wanted?

The hurt he felt constricting his chest encouraged him to do so. Leave his mate before he was hurt again. Back down from this challenge...

But he, Lord Voldemort, wasn't one to back down, was he? And he wouldn't leave his mate, would he? It had felt too right, too satisfying to never occur again. Never again...

No, it would definetely happen again, he swore to himself. He would hold Harry again, he would kiss him and Harry would want it, too. Of course he would.

Voldemort would find a way.

Slowly, he exited the Room of Requirement, glancing back at the cosy room, the four-poster bed, everything Harry had made appear with his thoughts, wishes and desires... if only.

As soon as he reached the border of Hogwarts' wards, he apparated away.

If only...

888

Harry ran through the halls, blindly, at top speed. Passing students would see a rush of colour racing past them, would blink, looking after it, blink again and would then decide their eyes had deceived them.

Harry ran with no real destination in mind. He couldn't go to the Room of Requirement because- no, he wouldn't think about that.

He stopped as an unwelcome scent washed over him. As he sniffed the air, a rancid aroma melted onto his tongue. His eyes snapped up, fixing on the figure of his best friend rounding a corner. It was too late to bolt.

'Harry!', the redhead called.

Harry smiled strainedly, his mind occupied with trying to recall the scent of his mate... that darkness mixed with safety, drowning in power...

'I've been looking for you all day! Where have you been?' He sounded accusing, Harry noted dispassionately.

He didn't answer. Ron continued talking, but Harry didn't listen, lost in thoughts and feeling sensations long gone.

Lips caressing his... hands resting on his back, holding him tightly...

'Come on! We'll miss dinner!'

Harry was rudely snapped out of his musings. And he was grateful for it. He shuddered, remembering it had been Voldemort, _Voldemort_ who had held him, who had ... oh Merlin... Voldemort who had kissed him... who had made him feel so good...

'What's wrong? Come on!!' Ron appeared to be extremely impatient. He must be famished, Harry thought and found it funny, in a way.

He let himself be tugged by Ron, down the many flights of stairs, towards the Great Hall.

As soon as he arrived, he noticed Hermione wasn't there. He said as much to Ron, who only shrugged and told him he had no idea where she had run off to. Both suspected she was in the library.

But she arrived soon, with a conspiciously missing book bag.

'Where's your book bag?' Ron asked.

Hermione beamed. 'I left it in the tower.'

Ron grunted and filled his plate with mashed potatoes.

Harry frowned, confused by her odd happiness. Hermione looked radiant. She was trying to hide her wide smile he could tell, but she was failing miserably. He also noticed that she looked better than ever.

She had her hair in bun, but some ringlets had freed themselves, framing her face delicately. Her cheeks were flushed lightly and if he hadn't already found his mate, he would have found her very beautiful.

His gaze fell on the smooth skin of her neck, seeing her quick, exhilarated heartbeat pulse. A silver necklace he had never seen on her rested around her neck. It was a locket, he noticed, letting his eyes travel downwards.

'I didn't know you had a locket, Hermione. Is it an heirloom? It looks so old.' Harry asked, curious.

Hermione blushed. Even her ears turned red.

Suddenly, Harry's nose was assaulted with the smell of her embarrassment but also with her pride, her happiness and what was that scent...? He sniffed inconspiciously. It smelled like...

'I... No. My mother gave it to me for this year...', she started, fighting down her blush. Harry wondered at her strange behaviour. 'With the war and all...'

She gestured towards her neck, a calculating look passing over her face before disappearing. 'Could you take it off for me, Harry?'

'Yeah, sure.' Harry nodded, waiting until Hermione had turned her back towards him and leaned her head forward so he had better access to the clasp of the locket.

Harry's gaze was once again drawn towards the side of her neck, but he shook himself, focusing on his task instead.

The silver clasp was easy to be undone. He took the chain of the locket into his hands, giving a startled yelp as pain ripped through his fingers, making his nerve-endings burn intensely.

Hermione turned her head, looking at him questioningly, but Harry saw something akin to triumph on her face. 'What's wrong?', she asked.

'N- nothing.', Harry stuttered, forcing himself to touch the silver clasp again, having difficulties not to show the pain on his face as he unclasped it.

He glanced at his fingertips. They were singed and hurt a lot. Slowly, he could see and feel the skin peel back. He winced and quickly hid his hands in the pockets of his robe. Shit! He should have remembered about silver... he should have known. What if Hermione found out?

Hermione had laid the locket on the table between them.

He stared at it, silently cursing the pain in his fingers.

The locket had a large 'S' on it, which looked like a snake, but wasn't.

'An 'S'?' Ron asked from beside her, sounding slightly jealous. He hadn't listened to her earlier explanation.

She tossed him an annoyed glare. ''S' for Sophie. Sophie Granger. My mum.'

Harry inhaled. A lie. It was in her scent. Nervousness, anxiety, something forbidden- a lie.

Before she could turn towards him again and request he clasp the locket around her neck again, he stood and excused himself. He needed to think and was in dire need of a potion to heal his fingers.

888

Harry sat on his bed, curtains drawn shut. He glanced at his hands, once again amazed at his own healing abilities.

After he had exited the Great Hall, he had gone upstairs to the boy's dorm, wondering if he should go to Madam Pomfrey.

Upon glancing at his hands, though, he had discovered that the skin that had peeled back had grown over his exposed flesh again. His fingers had only hurt faintly.

Now, he held a vial with a deeply red liquid in his hand, removed the stopper and drank the contents.

The blood rushed down his throat, leaving a trail of comforting fire where it passed. As soon as the blood reached his stomach, Harry felt energized and noticed the skin on his fingertips stretching and twisting to heal more completely.

A scar remained on the index finger of his right hand. Harry shuddered. He would need to pay more attention.

He swirled the remaining blood in the vial, watching as it flowed over the insides of the glass, leaving faint red traces of liquid dripping and flowing back down.

So red, so delicious. Harry absently wondered how his mate's blood would taste? He imagined it would taste even better. Warm, full of life... with his mate's scent permeating it. With power pulsing and rippling through it. Amazing. His mouth watered.

And maybe, his vampire self supplied, maybe his mate would drink of his blood, too. Would he like it? Did he crave Harry's blood as much Harry craved his? The thought excited him. What if Voldemort wanted him, too?

Suddenly, Harry grew aware of footsteps on the stairs leading to the boy's dorm.

Harry shook himself. He didn't want Voldemort. And he_ certainly_ didn't want his blood. He swallowed the saliva that had gathered in his mouth. No, he really didn't want his blood.

Soon after he had heard the footsteps, the door opened.

'Harry?'

Harry opened the curtains around his bed, smiling at Ron sheepishly.

'Why did you leave so suddenly?', the redhead asked, frowning.

'I didn't feel well...'- which was part of the truth. His fingers _had_ hurt like hell.

'Are you better?'

'Yes, yes. Much.' Harry smiled.

Ron nodded, seeming to forget about it immediately. 'Did you see Hermione? She's gone _again_! She promised she would look over my transfiguration essay tonight! I'm dead if I don't get an A this time...'

Hermione was missing again? Where did she go? She shouldn't be so obvious about it...

Harry wondered why he was still trying to protect her from being discovered- he didn't even know what she was up to. Still, he felt, deep down, that he needed to protect her secret from Ron.

So he decided.

'She said something about talking to Parvati about some girl stuff. I think she's in the girl's dormitory.'

He knew that Ron couldn't check. Boys couldn't enter the girl's dormitories.

'Damn! I'll have to look over my essay myself, now. I hope she comes downstairs again.'

They walked down the stairs together. The common room was quite empty for the time. Harry wondered where everyone was.

Ron had spotted Crookshanks curled up on one of the sofas and was prodding the half-kneazle awake. Crookshanks hissed at him.

'Hey, Crookshanks, do you know where Hermione is? Could you get her for me?'

The cat threw him a bored and slightly arrogant look and strechted languidly. Then, with his bottle-brush tail up in the air, he walked off, away from the dormitories to the portrait hole.

Ron cursed. 'Damn cat! Why does it have to be so stubborn?'

Harry was relieved to see that Ron believed Crookshanks was merely being stubborn and that he didn't think Crookshanks was truly leaving to find Hermione.

Ron collapsed into one of the soft armchairs ungracefully, sighing. 'I'm gonna wait for her to come down.', he said, glaring at the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

'Okay.', Harry said, quickly walking over to the portrait hole to let Crookshanks out.

After that he returned to the dorm. Where was Hermione? It had become an everyday ocurrence that she wasn't there and whenever she returned, she looked livelier and happier than she had before. Harry was glad to see her so happy, but still, he wondered what she was doing.

Suddenly, he had an idea. He cursed himself for not thinking of it before, as he got up quickly and went to his trunk. The Marauder's Map was in his hands a moment later.

He took his wand out and tapped the map with it, while stating: 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.'

A guilty feeling churned in his stomach as he said those words. He truly was up to no good. In his head, he apologized to Hermione for spying on her, before watching the lines of ink appear on the old parchment.

The first thing that caught his attention was a dot streaking through the halls, currently moving down from the fifth to the fourth floor. The dot was labelled 'Crookshanks' and he suspected the half-kneazle was making its way towards his owner.

He followed the small dot with his eyes, not noticing Ginny Weasley's dot as it travelled from the first to the ground floor.

Soon, he realized Crookshanks was heading towards the hospital wing. He glanced at the room concernedly, immediately spotting Hermione's dot.

His eyes widened as he saw the dot that was closest to her. The two dots were nearly touching and Harry felt surprise, guilt and disbelief at seeing the second person in the hospital wing.

He felt guilty because he had been the cause of the second person's being in the hospital wing. And he felt surprise and disbelief that Hermione was there, with him.

The second dot, the one Hermione was so close to, was none other than Snape.

What was she doing there? Had she gone to the hospital wing every time she had disappeared? Had she visited... _him_, whenever she had been gone?

Harry didn't know what to think. Snape still wasn't in his right mind, he couldn't teach, his soul still damaged, in a way. Why was Hermione with him?

Crookshanks' dot entered the hospital wing at high speed, halting near the dot of his mistress.

A few seconds later, both her dot and Crookshanks' left the hospital wing, turning to walk up the stairs.

Harry got up in a flash but walked down the stairs and through the common room in a sedate pace. To Ron he said he was going for a walk.

He needed to talk to Hermione. And Hermione couldn't let Ron see her enter through the portrait hole, lest Harry's lie be uncovered.

Harry walked briskly towards the stairs.

888

He could feel her before he reached her. She was walking slowly, reluctantly, it seemed. The light pattering of claws convinced Harry of the fact that Crookshanks was still by her side.

He hid in the shadows, waiting for her to walk into the corridor he was in. He wasn't disappointed.

Just a second before she reached him, Crookshanks stopped and sniffed the air.

Smart cat, Harry thought, stepping out of the shadow to confront Hermione.

She gave a startled yelp as he emerged, taking an unconscious step back. But when she saw who it was, she visibly relaxed.

'Harry? What are you doing?', she asked confusedly.

Harry didn't know how to tell her he had... well...

'We didn't know where you were and so I checked on the Marauder's Map...', Harry watched her face and grew bolder. 'You were with Snape! All this time you were missing, you were with him!'

He sounded angrier than he was, but what was said was said.

He watched as her face grew furious. 'You _spied_ on me?', she said, her voice dangerously low.

'It wasn't spying,', Harry protested weakly, knowing full well that it had been. 'We... that is, Ron and me, we were concerned. So... I figured...'

The anger seemed to drain froom her face. 'So Ron knows, too? Where is he? Isn't he going to accuse me as well?'

'I checked on you alone. He doesn't know. I think he would be a lot... less understanding.'

She huffed. 'As if you were so understanding. You hate him! You accuse me! You have no idea...'

Harry felt a stab at his heart seeing her so hurt. 'I'm sorry, 'Mione! I didn't mean to spy on you... it's just... we were really worried and... what _were _you doing with Snape? Tell me, I'll try to understand. I'll really try.' He smiled at her encouragingly.

But she shook her head sadly. 'I don't think you will understand, Harry. With your history...'

'Our history? I have forgotten our history, it doesn't matter to me anymore! What I have done... what I did to him... it's unforgivable. I nearly _killed_ him... oh Merlin, Hermione, I nearly killed someone... and there's still something wrong with him. I can't forgive myself. The least I can do is forgive him. Gods, how blind I was. How blind... I was so horrible. I...' He trailed off, anguish eating him from the inside. What had he done?

'Shh...', she stepped forward laying a hand on Harry's shoulder. 'He'll be all right. He's going to start teaching classes again by next week. He's merely resting.'

'Really?', Harry looked up again, feeling a weight he hadn't noticed before, lift from him. Light-headed, he hugged her, thanking her silently.

'Thanks for being such a great friend. I...' Suddenly, Harry felt the overwhelming urge to tell her. To tell her what he was. She had told him her secret – well, part of it- and he had accepted it. He was sure she would understand and wouldn't reject him for being what he was.

'Hermione... You know, I've been dishonest, too. I've lied to both you and Ron and to everyone else. I... Something happened over the sumemr holidays which...' He couldn't continue, the words stuck in his throat.

'Hey...' Hermione said softly. 'Look at me.'

Harry lifted his eyes reluctantly. Her brown eyes held compassion and understanding. 'I already know.'

He couldn't believe it. 'What? How?'

'I had suspected for a longer time, but today I saw proof of it. I know that you're a vampire.' She smiled simply.

Harry sputtered.

'You... don't you hate me? Aren't you... afraid?' Harry searched her face, but her smile stayed.

'Of course not! Why should I? You're the same Harry. I don't hate Professor Lupin, do I? Harry, even if you are a dark creature, you still are my friend first and foremost.'

Relief swept through Harry and he unclenched his hands.

'Show me your hands.'

His mind racing, he complied, putting his hands in hers. She looked down at his fingertips, touching them lightly with her own. 'Ah yes. I had nearly forgotten... vampires heal quickly...' She quirked a smile at him and continued to examine his hands. She stopped when she arrived on his right index finger. 'I'm so sorry, Harry! Did it hurt a lot?'

Harry wanted to appease her and tell her no, but she glared and he confirmed it.

'Oh Harry, I really didn't want to hurt you, but that was all I could come up with... The locket was silver and I thought...'

'I know. It's okay. I feel no pain.' He smiled reassuringly. 'So... the locket was from your mum, huh?' Harry felt his eyes twinkle amusedly and couldn't resist a grin.

'How did you know I was lying?', she asked, astonished.

Harry indicated his nose. 'Smell. You smelled really nervous and I could practically see 'lie' written all over your face.'

'You know, if I didn't know you, I'd think you were really creepy.' She hugged him again. 'Yes... it was a lie. The locket... was a gift from Severus.' This time she only blushed a little, but Harry could hear her heart speed up.

Harry felt old rage well up in his stomach, but he forced it down in favour of giving her a lingering glance. 'Snape? What exactly is going on?'

Hermione laughed and Harry was glad everything was okay between them. 'I'll tell you when I'm ready, okay?'

Harry found himself nodding. He didn't want to rush her. And hell, if she had befriended Snape, who was he to say she couldn't?

'But don't tell Ron, please. I don't think he'd understand that I... I just like Severus and want to continue visiting him. Can you do that, Harry?'

Harry agreed completely with her. 'As long as you keep my being a vampire for yourself...'

She hesitated. 'Don't you think it'd be better to tell him? He gets so angry when he's left out.'

Harry knew that. 'Why don't you tell him about Snape, then?', he countered.

She blushed and Harry again tried to discern the different layers of her scent and failed.

'Good point.', Hermione said, finally.

888

They tiptoed into the common room but soon saw that it had been unnecessary. Ron appeared to have given up because the room was deserted.

They sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Crookshanks jumped onto Hermione's lap. She petted the half-kneazle's head and suddenly turned to Harry, a playful glint in her eyes.

'So, Harry... have you found your mate yet?'

The tables had turned and now, it was Harry's turn to blush.

-888-

Hehe. Hermione is an inquisitor. She'll torture the truth out of him! Nah, just joking. But...who knows.

Any thoughts on your part? Of course there are, you're no brainless idiots after all. And... if you want to review... do it! I'm glad to hear your opinion!

Taranis


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